The Elf on the Shelf
by kellyb321
Summary: The owner at Verve Design has decided the holidays at the office have been way too boring in the past. He's decided to kick it up a notch with a Christmas party, Secret Santas and...and adorable Elf on the Shelf for the office. Kurt might be a little smitten.


Hello, long time no see!? I'm alive and...I'd love to say well, but unless "well" is synonymous with stressed out of my ever loving mind, we'll just say "I'm alive!" :D Lots going on, not the least of which is dealing with a fire in our new home before we could ever even move in! What a mess...but...we're dealing. I'm a bit behind for a Christmas story, but I hope you'll indulge me in my belated giving of a little something to you for being awesome and sending me good vibes and messages throughout the year. I hope you all had fantastic holidays!  
As always, I own nothing but the ideas. Don't be shy. You know I'm always up for a good yap session!

* * *

"KURT!"

"I'm here. I'm right here, there's no reason to ye—'

"Where's that sketch of the suit with the buttons on the…the uh…you know! Damn it, I'm late for a meeting and I need that sketch!"

"You mean _my_ sketch?" Kurt mumbled, eyes cast downward with a deep inhale through his nose.

"Don't be a bitch. We're a team. I win, you win," Preston sneered. "Don't go getting territorial on me now, Hummel."

"It's just that, when you took the dress, you said you'd tell them it was _my_ design—"

"Well, I can't just blurt that out in the middle of a design meeting, now can I? Be real, Hummel. In the real world you have to work your way up. Ah! Here it is," Preston hissed, grabbing Kurt's sketch pad and tearing it out unevenly. "Make me a reservation at the Plaza for lunch at 1:15. Don't take no for an answer. I'm meeting with Julia Withers and I've already told her when and where. With any luck we can end lunch with _dessert_," Preston grinned, wiggling his eyebrows in the creepiest way possible. Kurt tried hard not to grimace. Gross. "Well don't just sit there, Kurt, do something!"

"I was _doing something _when you came in and started throwing all of my things everywhere. Now I'll be _doing something_ cleaning up this mess you just made of everything," Kurt replied calmly. Preston threw him a sneer and left the office in a flourish, slamming the door so hard behind him that it bounced back open.

"Keep your head up, Kurt. Keep pushing forward. One of these days they'll see that it's your work. They'll realize that it's _your_ talent, not his. Keep your eye on the prize and—"

"Talking to yourself again?" came the soft voice from the door. Kurt jerked and nearly knocked over his cup of coffee, now too cold to even consider drinking it.

"Quinnie…you startled me," Kurt grinned, giving her a soft, fond look.

"Why do you allow him to bully you like that? I'm serious, Kurt. Just let me—"

"No. Quinn, please. I…I'll say something eventually. I can't really stick my neck out right now, ya know? I mean…I need this job. I REALLY need this job, and I don't mind the work. I know, sometimes he's just…a bit much…"

"A bit much? He takes your designs, Kurt, and he passes them off as his own! If you'd just tell them—"

"And then what? He'll accuse me of lying. They'll believe him and not me and I'll get fired and have to move back to Ohio. I can't do that, Q. I can't. I won't. Let me just deal with things on my own, ok? I just need to…to…I need to just de-stress a little bit. Can we grab lunch today? Preston's going at 1:15 so I can probably steal an hour or so if you have time.

"I would love to! You can tell me all about Thanksgiving in Ohio with your family and I'll tell you all about Big D's new idea to boost morale around the holidays. You're gonna die, I swear," she laughed, obviously flustered and rolling her eyes with a grin that said 'utterly ridiculous'.

"Well, now I can't wait to hear it, and you better watch yourself. If he hears you calling him 'Big D' we'll all get canned! Do I need to remind you again? Can't get fired…need this job…etc."

"When your name is J. Bigner Dickerson, and you're as tall and rotund as he is, you're the Big D, plain and simple. I'm fairly sure he knows we all call him that," Quinn laughed.

"YOU can call him that all you want. He's _your_ uncle. He's not related to me, and I'm disposable. I'll just call him Mr. Dickerson, thank you very much!" Kurt hissed, eyes wide as he saw the man in question coming toward them down the hallway outside his corner of the office. "And he's coming…"

Quinn turned in time to smile at her uncle and boss with an angelic look that defied any clues as to her conversation with Kurt.

"Quinnie," he said gruffly with a fond smirk peeking out.

"Uncle J, how are you this morning?"

"I'm well, sweetheart, I'm well. How's your mother?"

"She's just fine. Outdid herself at Thanksgiving. I wish you'd had time to stop over," she said sincerely. "Even the cousins from out of town were there…"

"I wish I could have as well, but I was…rather busy, truth be told. I had meetings and such to attend to, you know. I'm an old man, and I need to start planning for my retirement in earnest, young lady. Can't work forever and someone's gotta run this place!" he said with gusto. "And where might I find Preston?" he asked, looking around the office. Quinn shrugged and looked at Kurt who was always anxious around the owner of the company. This man ran _Verve_, one of the biggest fashion houses in New York City, and Kurt didn't even want to breathe wrong around him.

"He just left the office with a sketch, sir. I'm not sure where he was headed…in fact, I thought he was meeting with you, but clearly that's not the case," Kurt said, hesitantly. "I do know he plans to have lunch a little after 1 pm," he continued, looking at his watch.

"Oh? And where is lunch 'on me' today?" Mr. Dickerson asked with a smirk.

"Um…The Plaza…sir," Kurt replied, flinching. His boss merely nodded, but cast a look over Kurt's shoulder at the stack of papers behind him.

"I see Preston's been sketching again? It's about time. He's been stepping it up lately and I'm glad to see it. 'Bout time we saw something good out of him. Word of my impending retirement is obviously spurring some people in the right direction."

Kurt let his eyes fall to the floor and swallowed down every word that wanted to pour from his lips.

"Uncle J, some of those sketches—" Quinn began, shooting Kurt an annoyed look.

"Need to be put away, obviously!" Kurt blurted, standing quickly and shooting Quinn a horrified look. "I'll be sure to tell Preston you're looking for him, Mr. Dickerson," he finished hurriedly, wanting to shoo the man from his space.

"See that you do, Mr. Hummel, thank you. Oh…you went home for Thanksgiving, isn't that right?"

"I…yes. Yes, I did, sir. I went back to Ohio to see my family."

"I hope they're well?"

"Yes, sir. They're all doing well, thank you, sir," Kurt nearly stuttered out.

"Your father…his health wasn't good not so long ago, isn't that right?"

"That's…yes. Yes, he had a heart attack…" Kurt said, and he couldn't believe Mr. Dickerson even knew about his family's woes. Quinn must have told him.

"I'm glad to hear it. Too many people take their health for granted. I'm glad to hear that your father is hale and hearty again. Please tell Preston to find me, Kurt," he said, then turned and walked out of the office.

"Yes, sir, I sure will."

"KURT!" Quinn hissed. "That was the perfect opportunity! Why didn't you let me tell him!?"

"Because I…I panicked and I know there's no way he'd believe that those are my sketches now that Preston has claimed that they're his," Kurt replied, utterly dejected. His moods were steadily souring at work, and it was obvious. Day after day of having to be Preston's assistant was taking its toll on him, working long hours and then Saturday and Sunday as well, doing Preston's work while the man in question partied all weekend. "Don't give me that look."

"Lunch. On me. One o'clock at Ruby's. Be there or be square. See you then," she said, then flounced from the room with such grace that even Kurt was jealous.

"How she doesn't break her damn neck in those heels is a mystery to me…" Kurt muttered.

* * *

"So, his plan is to 'make the holidays fun again', even at work. There's going to be a giveaway at the end of every week. Someone will win a $100 gift card to…well, somewhere. I'm not sure if they get to pick or not…we'll see. Oh, and he wants all of us to do a Secret Santa thing. Everyone who wants to participate puts their name in the hopper and then you pull a name out once all the slips of paper have been put in. As long as you don't pull out your own name, you're good. Then you surprise your Secret Santa with little trinkets and goodies throughout the month until Christmas! I think it will actually be fun, as long as I don't get that rotten snake, Preston," Quinn laughed.

"Oh God, or that crazy guy from the mailroom who should have been fired last year—"

"YESSSS, that creep who they thought put the holes in the walls in the women's restroom!? I swear, Kurt, it had to be him, right!?

"Who else? The mailroom is right on the other side of the wall for goodness sake! Anyway, I suppose that could be fun. What else?"

"Well, he says the Christmas party the last decade or so has been dull and lifeless, so he's planning quite the shindig from what I understand, and I honestly think he'll announce his official retirement and his replacement sometime before or at the party…he apparently told my grandma that he's just not having fun with it anymore and he wants to have more time to spend with his wife and kids. He acts like he's a hundred years old when he can't be a day over sixty."

"Hopefully part of the morale boosting plan includes a Christmas bonus?" Kurt laughed.

"Who knows…I wouldn't rule out anything at this point. Oh, and oh my God, Cindy in HR told me that he's going to do some pretty fun things…random days of carolers coming through the office and breakfast with Santa for those with kids or nieces…nephews…grandkids, etc. Sounds to me like he's ready to go out with a bang. Now he just needs to decide who's taking over for him. Do you think it's Preston? If it is, do you still want to work for him? Kurt, you have to say something before Uncle J retires or you'll be at Preston's mercy!" Quinn admonished him, her sincere concern showing in her eyes.

Kurt sat back in the booth they'd snagged at the restaurant and let out a deep sigh. She was right. If Mr. Dickerson left and he put Preston in charge, Kurt's life would be a living hell. Preston would use Kurt like a rented mule, forcing him to turn out designs that Kurt couldn't even claim as his own. If he didn't, Preston would get rid of him. He'd have no option but to quit, and he didn't relish trying to find another job in the city during the holidays. Even all the seasonal positions were filled already.

"You're right. Eventually I'll have to say something, but I'll know when the time is right, Quinn. Please don't push me. I don't want to be all stressed out every damn day until Christmas. I'll deal with it in my own time, I promise. For now, though, let's get back to work. I want to be there before Preston gets back so he doesn't have anything to complain about," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Tic toc, Kurt. Times running out. I'm only trying to look out for you, ok? I hate seeing you smushed under that jerk's thumb."

"I know, and I love you for it. I'm baking you extra cookies for Christmas this year," Kurt grinned.

"Bribery will get you everywhere," she winked as they left the diner and headed back to work.

* * *

The next morning found Kurt rushing to get through the front doors at _Verve_ and nearly knocking someone down in the process.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry…" he huffed, hitching his heavy bag back up on his shoulder. Preston had sent him home with a ton of things to work on and of course Kurt didn't want to spend the money for a cab, so he lugged all of it to the subway and took it all home in his messenger bag, which was digging quite the rut into his shoulder. The woman he'd nearly run down gave him a halfhearted scowl as he backed up and held the door for her. "Sorry again, ma'am…" he tried, but she was already gone.

Turning, he greeted Nicole at the front reception desk with a smile and then nearly dropped everything in his hands.

"Holy freakin' shit, what the he—"

"Kurt!" Nicole cut him off with wide eyes and a giggle, shaking her head. She nodded to others in the lobby area who were within earshot and tried not to laugh out loud.

"No, but really…seriously. What. The. Hell?" he hissed with a bit less volume.

"He's the Elf on the Shelf, Kurt. Surely you've seen one?" Nicole asked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Of COURSE, I've seen one. They're about ten inches tall, creepy little buggers with beady little eyes and legs that look like felt covered drinking straws. But this…Oh, Nicole…who the hell's idea was this!?" Kurt hissed again.

"Stop it or you'll hurt his feelings!" Nicole replied playfully. "It was Mr. Dickerson's idea, of course."

"I'm am honestly without words…" Kurt began again, shaking his head and never taking his eyes off of the elf.

"I'm told a picture lasts longer," the Elf finally said, and Kurt jumped about a foot, eyes wide and startled.

"It speaks…" Kurt squeaked out, shaking his head slowly. Nicole merely laughed again.

"Yes, yes he does, and he also sings. You should hear him!" Nicole gushed. The elf winked at her and grinned widely.

Kurt focused back on the man sitting in the niche in the wall behind Nicole. He was a grown man, probably around Kurt's age, and he was wearing a red and white outfit, just like the miniature version of an Elf on the Shelf. His legs were primly crossed and his hands sat atop one another on his knee. His dark hair was barely contained beneath his silly elf hat. It was riotously curly, long, shiny ringlets nearly falling in his eyes, and his eyes were…oh. Wow…this guy…he had such stunning eyes and that smile could end wars.

"Yeah…I should. I should totally hear him…" Kurt breathed out, staring a bit too hard at the beautiful man behind the receptionist. It didn't hurt at all that the man was looking right back at him, a sheepish grin on his own face as he took in Kurt from head to toe.

"KURT!" Nicole huffed, and obviously not for the first time. Kurt snapped to attention and met her eyes instead of the amber pools belonging to the absolutely adorable Elf.

"Hmm?"

"It's not polite to stare," she teased.

"Are you blind? You did _see_ him, didn't you? Who wouldn't stare? Damn…" he whispered, then caught himself. "Oh my, I said that out loud, didn't I?" he finished quietly, giggling to himself. He turned red from the tips of his ears to his toes, he was certain of it. Nicole raised her eyebrows and nodded, then snickered before she full out laughed as Kurt hiked up his bag and hurried away toward the elevators without another word.

"Hold the door, Kurt!" Quinn called as she came through the front doors. She, too, paused to stare at the elf, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, before opening her mouth to speak.

"Oh my God, are you serious? What is he doing up there!?" she blurted toward Nicole and the elf, absolutely gobsmacked, but something held her back from saying anything more. She snapped her mouth shut, shook her head as if to clear it, looked at Kurt, then back to the Elf before making her way to the elevator. She watched the man on the shelf until she could no longer see him, eyes still wide and wary as she walked away.

"You saw him too, right?" Kurt asked, still looking out the stainless-steel doors of the elevator.

"I saw him, yes. One would have to be blind not to see him in that…that insane outfit. What is he thinking!?"

"I don't care what he's thinking, Quinn, as long as he keeps showing up here every morning! I want one for my own house. Where can I get one?" Kurt said again, a grin threatening to break through. Quinn giggled as well and they both exited the elevator to start their day. Seeing Kurt grin was a rarity anymore, and if the Elf could make it happen, she was all for it.

* * *

Kurt was brought out of his bubble of concentration just before lunch when there was a commotion in the hallway outside. It seems the adorable, mop-headed Elf had made his way upstairs and was passing out tiny gift bags to Kurt's coworkers as he passed them by. Little expressions of "how sweet!" and "Oh, thank you!" were heard all the way down the hall and Kurt felt himself tense up, wondering if the Elf would bring him a bag. Here he sat, a grown ass man, wanting a little gift bag from another grown ass man dressed in red and white as a Christmas Elf. What had his life come to?

He forced himself to get back to work, knowing it would take the guy at least a few minutes to make his way to Kurt's end of the hall, and submersed himself in the sketch he'd been working on for the past few days. He couldn't get it just right, and it was making him a little crazy.

"You're a hard man to track down," he heard minutes later.

Kurt startled and looked up to see the dark-haired hottie standing in his doorway, shoulder propped against the frame.

"Not so much…I'm always right here. Most of the time I'm right here, anyway," Kurt replied, trying very hard to keep his voice from becoming breathy. Wow…this guy was too adorable. "So I'm wondering, super adorable elf…" Kurt trailed off, flitting through some papers on his desk and trying desperately to be both forward and coy, "should we expect all manner of chaos now that your elf-liness has arrived? Isn't that what the Elf on a Shelf does? Brings mischief and messes?"

"I think I'm supposed to do the opposite, actually. I've been hired to bring a little cheer, but also to find out where the messes are and make them better. This morning I spent 35 minutes untangling the jungle of chords under Simca's desk so that her feet have somewhere to be that doesn't trip her up every time she tries to stand from her chair. After lunch I'm planning to rearrange the dupioni in the sample room by hue so they're easier to find. Matthew is just way too busy to mess with such things. There are all sorts of tasks to keep an elf busy around here," he smiled widely, eyes bright.

"Really? Well, who would have thought?" Kurt replied, intrigued. Maybe he'd have to come up with something to keep the elf busy in his own area?

"And…now that I've found you, I've brought you a little treat," he said, and handed Kurt a small, red bag of shiny foil paper.

"Hmmm, for me?" Kurt asked, and a grin tried to peek its way out.

"For the most handsome man in the building, yes," the Elf flirted, offering Kurt that megawatt smile.

Heart pounding at the obvious attraction between them, Kurt opened the bag and found a handful of Hershey's chocolate kisses as well as a gift card for Starbucks. He looked up to find that the Elf's cheeks were pink and he was clearly blushing.

"Kisses and coffee. Sounds like a date," Kurt said without thinking, then felt himself turn bright red as his eyes bugged out as well. This man did weird things to him that he couldn't explain, and it made him feel a little giddy inside. "Thank you…you didn't have to, you know. I know the ladies get a kick out of it, but…" Kurt shrugged.

"Yes, they do, but I'd also hoped you might enjoy your little goodie bag, too. And if you wanted a Starbuck's drinking buddy…well, you know…I might be able to find someone who'd accompany you. Maybe. If you wanted," he winked, backing away from the door. "You know where to find me."

"Wait, I do?" Kurt asked hurriedly, standing to crane his neck and see where the man had gone.

"I'll be on the shelf, Kurt!" he heard, and then the ding of the elevator doors. That fantastic smile was evident in his reply and it made Kurt's belly flutter.

"On the shelf…" he muttered to himself, then sat back down as he rolled his eyes. It was a full two minutes later when Kurt realized he still had a mile-wide smile on his own face.

* * *

The next morning found Kurt striding through the same doors but this time looking immediately toward Nicole, only to find the Elf sitting behind her once again. He didn't say a word, just smiled at Kurt and tilted his head slightly in greeting. Kurt couldn't hold back his own grin, but continued on toward the elevators after offering a heartfelt "good morning!". He had a lot of work to catch up on after Preston ditched him for the rest of the afternoon the previous day after lunch.

"You're late," Preston said as Kurt walked into the office and slung his bag on the floor behind his desk.

"I'm supposed to be here at 8 a.m. and it's now 7:55 a.m. Exactly how am I late?" Kurt asked, never looking the man in the eye.

"You know we have a lot to catch up on," he said, and his tone said he was already in a mood. Kurt wasn't up for it, and snarked right back at him.

"We have a lot to catch up on because _you_ left after lunch and left me with a ton of stuff to do, which I did. So, technically, _you_ have a lot to catch up on.

"I win, you win, Kurt. I lose…guess who else loses?" Preston said, looking down his nose at his assistant.

"You keep telling me that, but what I'm seeing is you winning and me getting stuck doing all of your work while you take the afternoon off. To me, that's not winning. That's being taken advantage of…but maybe I'm being a little too sensitive?"

"I don't think I like your attitude this morning, Hummel, and you better watch your mouth. One word from me and—"

"Preston…" Quinn said, waltzing into the office, barely acknowledging him any further. "Hey, Kurt, can I borrow you for a minute. There's a hemline that's giving me fits and I know you're good with that…that is, if you're not too busy already?" she added sweetly. Kurt didn't wait for Preston to answer, he just got up and left with Quinn.

"What's got you all fired up this morning?" she said as she walked down the hall with Kurt by her side.

"He jumped on me the minute I came through the door…and it kinda set me off, I guess."

"I knew you'd eventually get tired of it, and I'm glad you're speaking up for yourself. Don't let him push you around, Kurt. He obviously thinks he's on his way up, but he better watch it…Uncle J noticed that he didn't come back yesterday afternoon and apparently he missed a meeting, too. I think he assumes he's got this in the bag…and maybe he knows something we don't. I'm not sure Preston's as close to winning as he thinks he is, but who knows. I still don't want you being bullied by your own boss. It's not fair."

"Life's not fair, Quinn. Where's the hem you needed help with?" Kurt asked as he stopped and looked around the workroom.

"The silver slub silk…" she began, then noticed the costume clad young man with the silky black curls sitting primly on her worktable, legs crossed and hands folded over one knee.

"Quinn…Kurt…" he smiled, then slipped off the table and sauntered over toward them, handing each one a little box with a brightly colored ribbon tied around it.

"You just seem to pop up everywhere, don't you?" Kurt asked, intrigued. Oh, this elf just made him smile and he couldn't stop.

"That's what they hired me to do, after all," he grinned at Kurt, then batted his eyelashes as he shifted to sit back on the work table.

"Preston usually bellows for some caffeine somewhere around 10:30. I'll be heading down the block to Starbucks to grab it, and I have this gift card now…I thought, maybe…I'd grab myself one for a change, and maybe if there was anything left on the card, I might grab something for you as well? You know…since you so graciously popped up to give me the little bag and all."

"Medium drip?" the Elf grinned.

"I can do that," Kurt grinned back. Quinn cleared her throat and looked between the two, who seemed to have forgotten that she was even there. "Oh, forgive my manners, Quinnie…did you want something, too?" he asked.

"Yes, Quinnie, did you want something, too?" the elf smiled. Quinn tilted her head in surprise at the use of the nickname only Kurt or her uncle used in the office. She gave him a look that said "really?" and it made Kurt snicker.

Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her head, herding Kurt over to the dress she'd needed help with.

"I'll scoot along and get out of your way, then," the Elf said.

"Oh, wait!" Kurt called out as he watched the red and white clad figure walk toward the door. "Do you um…do you have a name? Calling you 'the Elf' is getting a little…weird."

"My name's Blaine," he smiled widely with a wink toward Kurt, then left them alone with the dress.

"He is so freaking cute," Kurt giggled. Quinn's eyes grew large and round and she couldn't believe she'd heard the tinkling laughter at all. Kurt was fairly sullen at work, for the most part, especially since he was usually following Preston's orders.

"Why Kurt…are you smitten with our resident Elf on a Shelf?"

"No! Maybe…I dunno. He's just so freakin' adorable. And he's sweet. And his eyes are like molten honey with flecks of green and I just…I think he's cute, ok?"

"Well, add this to the list of things I didn't see coming, I guess," she mumbled, shaking her head to herself. "Yeah…he's cute, and I don't see any harm in coffee I suppose," she said, bumping Kurt's hip with her own. "If there's anything left on that card, I wouldn't turn down a latte…you know…after you get yourself something…and Blaine, of course," she teased.

"Of course…" Kurt parroted back at her. "Blaine…" he tested the name on his own tongue and found he didn't mind the taste of it one bit.

* * *

A few days passed and Kurt (and everyone else) found Blaine in a new spot each morning. Apparently, there was a prize for being the first person to find the elf upon arrival in the office. They'd even set up an "Elf-mail" address, and whoever sent the first "spotted him!" email of the day had their lunch paid for by the company. Some days Blaine was mischievous, some days he was sweet. Most days he brought candy or little trinkets for everyone, doing his very best to raise everyone's holiday spirits. But each day…every day…he brought something special for Kurt. He was hanging out on the fourteenth floor more often than any other, which made Kurt a bit anxious as most of the corporate staff was on that floor as well. He didn't want Blaine to get in trouble for not doing his job and lingering too long with Kurt…but he did enjoy Blaine's company. He found that he truly enjoyed talking to the silly, little Elf and couldn't wait to see his smile every day. Blaine generally disappeared around lunchtime, though, but then…everyone needed to eat, right? Still, Kurt wished he'd find Blaine sitting in the employee lunch room, just once, so they could eat together and chat.

Blaine had woven his way into each department, making friends with the employees there and learning their names. He asked about their families, hobbies and even pets after seeing the photos on their desks or their screen savers. He paid attention, keeping track of what everyone did for the company, too. Often, their little goodies the following days would be something a little more personal, or it would have something to do with their job, which made Kurt wonder who was in charge of purchasing these little goodies and if Blaine had any input. Surely, he must, right? Either way, Kurt almost always received a Starbucks gift card in his little bag that carried him through a few days, many times even buying an extra cup for Blaine and even Quinn. He was always happy to share the spoils. Friday he'd received a new set of expensive sketching pencils, which made him smile. Whoever hired Blaine for this elf job had picked the perfect person. He was sweet, attentive and just an all-around fun little elf to have around.

He'd been surprised by a sneaky and silent Blaine several times now. The silly elf would sidle up behind him and watch Kurt sketch designs now and again. He'd even commented on a few, making Kurt smile when Blaine would tell him how talented he was.

"I would wear that suit in mustard yellow any day of the week, Kurt," Blaine said one day, causing Kurt to inhale sharply as he turned with wide eyes.

"You are a little sneak, you know it!" Kurt hissed, mirth dancing in his eyes. "And I'm not sure about mustard yellow for this one…although it would bring out the honey in your eyes—" Kurt said without thinking. "OH…I…I mean…" he stuttered out, blushing.

"What's this little flourish, here?" Blaine asked him, relieving Kurt of his temporary discomfort, pointing to a little squiggle he'd noticed a few times on Kurt's sketches. Kurt would weave it into a hemline or next to the heel of a shoe.

"I…um. I can't sign my work, because sometimes Preston…borrows it…so I always weave a stylized 'k' in there somewhere…just for me…so that even if everyone else thinks Preston is super talented, I know it's…actually…mine…" Kurt finished softly, avoiding Blaine's eyes, unsure if he'd said too much. It still bothered him that he couldn't or wouldn't stand up to Preston, and he knew Blaine would agree with Quinn that he should. But Blaine wouldn't understand. He couldn't. Kurt needed this job and the promise that maybe, someday, he'd move up and be more than Preston's gopher.

Blaine leaned over Kurt's shoulder, his wild curls brushing against Kurt's cheek as he did so, then whispered in Kurt's ear, "you're too talented to work for that troll, Kurt. Someday…"

Blaine winked and scampered away to finish delivering the cute little gift bags to Kurt's co-workers.

"Someday…" Kurt whispered to himself.

* * *

The first snag came when Blaine bounced into the office with Kurt's customary bag of treats the following Monday morning. He spoke quickly and without thinking, and when Kurt's eyes shot to Blaine's, wide and concerned, Blaine knew he'd somehow made a misstep.

"Good morning, Kurt. Goodies for the most talented man in the building…" he began, but Kurt's slight shake of the head and glance to his right made Blaine realize he wasn't alone.

"Can I help you?" came the sneer from Preston as Blaine breezed through the door spouting off about Kurt's talent.

"Oh, my apologies. Kurt's just usually in here alone…working…alone. I wasn't aware there was anyone else here. You must be Preston?" Blaine smiled, despite the little dig that made Kurt's heart race. Even if it was true that Preston wasn't always in the office working, it wasn't smart for Blaine, of all people, to bring it up.

"Kurt's busy. You can move along, weird little elf-man," Preston mumbled, looking back down at some folders on his desk. "In fact, Kurt, you were working on a gown the other day…off the shoulder with an empire waist…where is it?"

"I-it's not finished. It's just a sketch, Preston, it's…I haven't completed it. I wish you wouldn't—"

"Yeah, well, wish away. I need something for Big D this afternoon and he's been paying much more attention to me since I've been 'producing', as he puts it. I've got this in the bag," he grinned, standing to leave the office. "The sketch?" he said again, hand out and fingers wiggling as he looked down his nose at Kurt.

"Preston…" Kurt began, well aware that Blaine was standing in the doorway with his brow furrowed and his mouth slack at this man's audacity. "Really, it's not finished, it still needs some—"

"I'm not asking you, Kurt. I'm telling you that I need it and you need to put it in my hand before I get upset. I guarantee you don't want me to get upset."

Heart pounding, embarrassed and angry, Kurt turned and flipped through his sketch book, selecting the gown he'd been working on the previous week. It went against every thread of sanity in his body to hand it to Preston, but he had no doubt in his mind at all that Preston would can him before he'd ever allow Kurt to defy him.

With a crappy smirk, Preston snatched up the paper and turned to leave.

"Long lunch today with Gus Lewellen. Find something to keep yourself busy so that I don't get too far behind. And you," he said, staring straight at Blaine, "get lost. Kurt's a busy man and doesn't have time for fruity little elf boys hanging out in the office. Go throw candy at someone else." With that, he strode from the office, head held high, and left Kurt feeling about two inches tall.

"Does he do that often?" Blaine asked, eyes still wide and questioning.

"I…can we not…I just…I'm sorry, Blaine. I…I have work to do, can we talk later?" Kurt asked, eyes welling up in frustration.

"Kurt…he's just stealing your work…" Blaine said quietly. Kurt visibly tensed and his breathing picked up.

"Blaine—"

"How often?" Blaine asked.

"Sometimes. Sometimes he…he needs something to present…" Kurt said quietly, voice trailing off.

"He's passing it off as his own, though? Every time? You don't get any credit?"

Kurt merely nodded, not raising his eyes from his desk.

"Kurt…you should be getting credit for—"

"You don't think I know that!?" Kurt blurted, angry now. "Of course, I know that, but I need this job, Blaine. If he asks, I have to comply or he'll fire me and I can't lose my job. If I just keep my head down and do my damn job, I'll be fine. Maybe if he takes over for Mr. Dickerson he'll be too busy to mess with me. Maybe he'll even remember that I had some good ideas now and then. Maybe…maybe I'll finally get some credit for everything he's taken from me," he finished quietly.

"How many?"

"What?"

"How many of your designs has he pawned off as his own?" Blaine asked, obviously irritated on Kurt's behalf now.

"A dozen or so. Look Blaine, while I'm thrilled that you're upset on my behalf, there's not a lot I can do…and there's even less that you can do. Please just…just let it go. Fingers crossed it all works out in the end, ok? Just…let it go."

"I can't believe you're letting him—"

"Blaine." Kurt's tone left no argument. He was done with the conversation and that was that. Blaine nodded and turned to leave with a clenched jaw.

"Does your friend Quinn know?" he asked when he was nearly out the door.

"Yes," Kurt answered, gnawing on his bottom lip. Blaine nodded and left him alone with his frustration and embarrassment.

For the rest of the week, Blaine left his tiny gift bag on his desk when he knew Kurt wouldn't be around.

* * *

"I shouldn't have pushed you, and I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?" came the soft request from the doorway the following Monday morning. Kurt was alone in the office, Preston having called to say he would be late, as he'd had a "business meeting" that went into the wee hours the night before. Who, exactly, held a business meeting on Sunday evening, and how often did said meetings extend into the "wee hours", Kurt wanted to know. But, with Preston absent, the office was much quieter, and seeing Blaine again raised Kurt's spirits.

"Blaine…I'm so sorry about last week, I…I shouldn't have bitten your head off like that. It wasn't your fault and I can't apologize enough. It was just…I dunno…embarrassing, that he just talks to me like that and takes my things," Kurt blushed, eyes downcast. "Can you forgive me?" He tilted his head and smiled softly at the elf in the doorway, who returned his soft smile with one of his own.

"I stuck my nose in where it wasn't needed or wanted, Kurt. What happens between you and Preston…well, I hope you'll speak up, but if you choose not to, it's not something I'll question you about anymore. Ok? Can we just…you know…go back to how it was before all of that?"

"I'd like that. I really do appreciate that you're looking out for me, though, Blaine. I know something needs to be said, but if I blow the whistle now, I could lose my job and I can't be unemployed at Christmas time. My dad is coming to town to see me and I need every dime from every paycheck, ya know? I just have to bide my time and do what he asks until I can either say something or…or find something else if he ends up being the one Mr. Dickerson picks to take over for him. If that happens…" Kurt trailed off, rolling his eyes and signing in frustration, but he didn't finish the sentence. He shrugged and chanced a look at Blaine, then offered him a shy grin. "I've missed you. More than I probably should," he said, blushing. Blaine colored a bit as well.

"I've missed you, too, Kurt. I just really hate that he's doing this to you, and I hate to see you so frustrated."

Blaine gave him a pitying look and Kurt kinda hated it, but he wasn't sure what other look he'd give someone, given the situation.

"Ok, well, to make it up to you, I hoped maybe you'd let me take you to lunch today?" Blaine asked, a hopeful grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.

"I'd love that, actually. I don't know how much time I'll have. I try to work my lunch around Preston's so he doesn't feel like he's here working and I'm not…"

"We can go right across the street if you want. The food is good and the service is quick."

"Yes, please. Nothing like lunch with my favorite elf," Kurt smirked. That brought out a big grin on Blaine's face and he winked before backing up a step or two.

"How about 12:30? I'll meet you in the lobby downstairs," Blaine said hopefully.

"It's a date!" Kurt said with a bit too much enthusiasm, and then his mouth fell open as he realized he'd put his foot in his mouth again. "I mean…not that I…it's not a um…just lunch…it's just—"

"A date…yes. I'd like that very much, if that suits you?" Blaine grinned. That smile could end wars, Kurt was sure of it.

"A date, then," Kurt said breathlessly. With that, Blaine walked backwards a few more steps, then turned and skipped the rest of the way to the elevators. Kurt may have had to bite his lip to stop himself from squealing.

* * *

"So, you and Quinn are good friends?" Blaine asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"We are. We actually went to high school together back in Ohio. She planned to go to Yale but found, after a semester, that it wasn't for her. This was her back up plan, and she's killing it. She knew I was looking for something and I've always been interested in fashion, so she called me when a spot opened up. I started out as kind of a gopher, but Preston needed an assistant, and it paid more, so I took it when it was offered. I've regretted it almost every day since then," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "Now I'm just _Preston's_ gopher."

"He doesn't seem like a very good boss…but I've only had that one encounter with him, so I suppose it's unfair for me to judge. Am I wrong?"

"He's…difficult. I think, back in the day, he was a real go-getter. If they needed something, he always came through but, at some point, he kinda…lost it? He lost his touch, at least that's what I've heard. They all think he's 'got his spark back' now, though," Kurt laughed, mirthlessly.

"Because he's using your designs?"

"Because he's using my designs…" Kurt repeated, sipping his drink. "But…at least I get the feedback that my stuff is good, right? They like my designs, even if they don't know they're mine, so that's…something. I guess. I dunno," he shrugged.

"But it's not fair that he takes credit for something he didn't do, Kurt. I won't tell you what to do, but I do know you shouldn't let him get away with this. I just hope you get to be acknowledged for your hard work at some point…sometime soon."

"We'll see. So, no more about that. Tell me about _Blaine_," Kurt grinned.

"Not a lot to tell. I grew up in Ohio, too, ironically enough…Westerville, actually, and then left after high school to go to…" Blaine paused, unsure of his words now. "I moved to California, to stay with my older brother who lives out there. I've lived there ever since and just recently thought I'd try my luck in New York to see what the city has to offer little ol' me," he grinned, although a bit of sadness peeked through.

"You don't seem overly thrilled about it," Kurt pried.

"I really liked California, and being with my brother. My sister in law is due with my first niece or nephew any day now, and I'll miss it because I'm here," he said.

"I don't understand…then why did you move away?" Kurt asked, head tilted now.

"I needed a change," Blaine shrugged. "I was really doubting my decision to move here, though, until…" he paused, blushing as he did so.

"Until?"

"Until I met this guy at my new job. He's kind of amazing…smart, beautiful, talented…" Blaine trailed off, looking at Kurt from under his eyelashes. Oh, that blush was doing things to Kurt.

"He's a lucky guy if he caught your attention," Kurt teased.

"He's special, yes."

"I bet he thinks you're pretty special, too. Oh, and thank you for lunch," Kurt said, unsure of what else to say. His flirting game wasn't up to par today, obviously, and he was just too flustered around Blaine.

"Anytime. This is the very best perk of the job," Blaine said quietly, reaching up to softly run his thumb down Kurt's cheek. "Little bit of salad dressing, there…" Kurt nearly melted into a blob on the floor of the restaurant.

"So, what did you do back in California?" Kurt asked, taking a bite of his salad, and trying to calm his flailing heart.

"I…a lot of things, I guess. I've waited tables, worked in a record store, delivered pizza, worked in the box office at a theater…" he trailed off looking shyly at Kurt over his crazy job list. Kurt let it roll around in his head for about two seconds that Blaine didn't seem to be the type to keep a job very long, and he wondered what he'd do when the elf gig was up. But, in the end, it wasn't his business and it didn't really matter as long as Blaine was happy with what he was doing.

"We should go. I want to get you back before Preston misses you."

Kurt grumbled and rolled his eyes again. He'd probably need to see an optometrist soon if he kept that up. With that, they both stood and left the table. Blaine paid at the cash register and they headed across the street. The men paused in the lobby and Blaine bit his bottom lip as he nodded toward the front desk.

"I have shelf duty this afternoon," he said. "I'll be up and around later with goodies, ok? I'll see you then. Thank you for having lunch with me, Kurt."

"It was very much my pleasure," Kurt grinned, sauntering backwards toward the elevator.

With a wink, Blaine was around the corner and Kurt knew, without a doubt, he was falling fast for the silly boy after barely a week and a half.

* * *

Kurt was packing his bag to leave the office on Friday when he heard someone at the door clear their throat. He glanced up to see Blaine standing there, smiling widely at him, and biting his lip.

"You're here late on a Friday," Kurt said.

"Planning next week's goodies," Blaine replied, then winked at Kurt. "Have to make sure I have Starbucks cards for my favorite designer."

"Oh? Should I be jealous of this designer?" Kurt teased.

"Dummy. I was talking about you."

"Yes, well, I'd love to be a designer, but for now I'm a glorified gopher who has his designs pilfered by his boss. But I thank you for the boost of confidence."

"I'm not going to tell you that you really should say something, because you already know that, but…you really should say something."

It made Kurt huff out a mirthless chuckle. "I know…and eventually I will. One day he'll push me too far and I'll snap, probably. It won't be pretty, and I'll most likely lose my job, but at least the truth will be out in the open," Kurt said sadly.

"Yes, well, they say the truth will set you free, right?" Blaine snickered.

"Who, exactly, is _they_, anyway?" Kurt teased. Blaine only shrugged.

"So, um…do you have plans for this evening?"

"Plans?" Kurt asked, a little stunned at the question.

"Plans, yes. Like…are you going out to do anything fun with other people or…even just doing something on your own? And if not, would you consider doing something…with me?" Blaine asked shyly.

"I don't…" Kurt said softly.

"You don't…wanna do anything with me or…?"

"I don't have plans, really, " Kurt chuckled. "I had thought about actually decorating my little Christmas tree this weekend…starting tonight, but it'll wait a day or so I guess. I would very much enjoy doing something with you. What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner? Whatever you want after that?"

"That sounds nice. Yes, I'd love to."

"May I pick you up at 7:30?"

"Yes…yes, you may," Kurt grinned.

Blaine confiscated Kurt's phone after that and input his information. He then texted himself so that Kurt could send him his address.

"I'll see you at 7:30 then. Until then…" Blaine said with a wide grin, leaning in to kiss the back of Kurt's hand, and then sauntered off to the elevators.

* * *

Kurt waited nervously for Blaine to let him know he'd arrived. He had changed his outfit four times, brushed the hairspray out of his hair and started the styling process over again, and gargled with mouthwash twice. To say that he was a bit nervous would have been an understatement.

When Blaine finally rang the buzzer, Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin. He pushed the button and allowed Blaine to come up to the fourth floor, then met him at his door. Blaine handed him a beautiful bouquet of flowers which Kurt put in water before they left. He may or may not have nearly swooned when he was out of Blaine's line of sight.

"Thank you for the flowers, Blaine. You certainly didn't have to go to all the trouble…" he called from the kitchen, leaning under the sink for a vase.

"It was no trouble, and you're definitely worth it, believe me. Beautiful flowers for a stunning man. You look…wow. You always look good, Kurt, but tonight you look fabulous!" Blaine gushed.

"I bet you say that to all the guys," Kurt teased.

"Actually, I save compliments for those who deserve them," Blaine said, matter-of-factly, leaving Kurt to wonder at the statement as he rounded the corner from his little kitchen into the living room where Blaine stood waiting for him. He looked divine in well-fitting pants and a button-down shirt, both obviously higher end, the pants having been tailored to fit Blaine so well that Kurt had to focus to keep from drooling. Elves clearly did ok for themselves. Kurt was glad Blaine hadn't opted for a tie, which said that they weren't going anywhere too fancy, but probably not to McDonald's, either. He stared at Blaine for too long, wearing a silly grin, until Blaine called him on it.

"Ok, what?" he grinned.

"You just look so different in clothes," Kurt chuckled, reaching for his coat as he did so.

"So, you're saying you've pictured me naked, or…?" Blaine countered. Kurt whipped around, eyes wide and mouth gaping open.

"WHAT? Oh my gosh, no. NO…BLAINE!" he hissed when said man couldn't stop laughing. "You're a jerk," he teased, shoving Blaine in the shoulder as he tried to keep his face from flaming.

"But you said I look so different in clothes, meaning—"

"MEANING, you're not wearing your elf suit! There is something so wrong with you, Blaine—" Kurt laughed, then cut himself off, realizing he didn't know Blaine's last name. "I've never asked your last name," he said, grinning. Blaine, however, hesitated, before saying "An…Anderson. Blaine Anderson," with a sweet smile. It was a strange exchange of words in Kurt's small foyer which left him confused for about three seconds before Blaine cleared his throat and offered his arm.

"Shall we?"

"We shall. Lead the way, good sir," Kurt teased.

Dinner was…perfect. There was no other word for it. Kurt had gone on many first dates. Many of those were also _only_ dates with that person, and that was ok. Sometimes it was a good thing, sometimes he couldn't get away fast enough. Tonight, he wanted to spend hours with Blaine, and he did.

He caught Blaine watching him closely several times and it made him feel warm inside, like Blaine was trying to absorb all that was Kurt from across the table. He listened intently, as if everything Kurt said was important and he took in every detail. Kurt did much the same, hanging on Blaine's every word and wanting to know more.

Their server was quick with their order, but didn't hover and didn't make them feel as if they had to finish and get out of her section of the restaurant in a hurry. She stood behind Blaine at one point and winked at Kurt, mouthing 'nice catch' and then nodding toward Blaine. Unbeknownst to Kurt, she'd done the same to Blaine, causing the man to smile and nod and confuse Kurt for a moment, but Blaine covered by quickly saying "yes, please, if you don't mind…" and holding up his glass for a refill.

Conversation flowed out of them as if they'd been friends forever. There were no lulls in the conversation, no uncomfortable silences. They shared a love for music, movies and theater as well as Lebanese food, apparently, as they nearly came to blows over the last bit of baba ganoush in the bowl. Blaine relented and offered it to Kurt, feeding him the last bit on a wedge of pita. When Blaine's fingertip brushed over Kurt's lip, he felt the earth shift, he was sure of it. Kurt had to take deep breaths to keep from choking on that last bite. He knew Blaine felt it too, as they kept eye contact, neither saying a word, for the better part of a minute while Kurt self-consciously chewed his food. When he finally swallowed and bit his lip in a shy grin, Blaine whispered softly that maybe it was time to go. Kurt was so on board.

Outside the restaurant it was dark, as it tended to be in New York City any time after 5 pm in the winter. But the light in Blaine's eyes was a thing of rare beauty and Kurt just hoped they were on the same page.

They walked for a bit in the cold, Blaine shivering slightly as Kurt's hand brushed his, but then he surprised Kurt by snagging his gloved hand and holding it tightly. Their shoulders bumped a bit as they walked, but neither of them seemed to mind at all as they passed all the brightly colored lights and decorated window fronts.

"Is this ok?" he asked. Kurt was only able to nod, so at ease and comfortable with Blaine that it felt unbelievably right and natural to be holding hands as they were.

"Would you…um…would you like to come back to my place? We could, I dunno…have hot chocolate and watch a movie or…something?" Kurt asked, feeling suddenly shy and breathless.

"I'd like that, I think," Blaine smiled, and tucked Kurt's arm in his own as they made their way back to Kurt's small apartment. However, when they arrived at the apartment it was infinitely clear that what they had in mind was worlds apart. Kurt wanted nothing more than to kiss Blaine until he couldn't think straight, and Blaine…well, Blaine apparently wanted that hot chocolate and a movie, all after decorating Kurt's little tree with him. They untangled a few strands of colorful lights, then unwrapped the glass globes and dangling, beaded ornaments to place on the tree in front of Kurt's living room window. It was all very strangely domestic and Kurt wasn't sure what to think about it…but he sure enjoyed himself and he thought Blaine did as well. But…Kurt wanted more.

"Marshmallows?" Kurt asked, unsure how he'd read the situation so wrong. They were still together and still having a good time…still talking and sitting next to one another on the sofa now, but…something was off.

"Of course," Blaine smiled, taking the mug from Kurt as he did so. "DVD or Netflix or…what do you have?" he asked.

"Either…or Hulu…so many streaming services…" Kurt said nervously. His heart was pounding and he wasn't sure why. When Blaine's finger had brushed Kurt's lip he was certain that Blaine's eyes darkened, as Kurt was sure his own had. Maybe Blaine was just shy?

Kurt had come into his living area to find Blaine sitting on the sofa flipping through a stack of designs that Kurt had been working on and left laying out on his table.

"I'm sorry…I hope I'm not overstepping, It's just…I mean…you left them out and I…I shouldn't have, I'm sorry, Kurt," Blaine said, setting the sketches aside.

"No, it's ok. I'm not angry. I did leave them sitting there, and it's not as if you went searching and dug them up."

"That red dress, Kurt…that's fantastic!" Blaine commented, picking up his hot chocolate. Kurt grinned and allowed his lashes to flutter a bit. He absolutely loved that dress and he brought it home from work on purpose. He wasn't leaving that one at the office to be snatched up. Preston had seen it in his sketch book one day and his eyes lit up. No way was Kurt parting with it, job or no job.

"I kind of love it…so thank you. Maybe someday, right?" he smiled shyly. Blaine just looked at him fondly and shook his head, not willing to get into _that_ conversation again.

"You are so devastatingly handsome," Blaine blurted out instead. He seemed almost shocked at his own words, perhaps unsure he'd allowed them to escape his thoughts, but when he saw how Kurt lit up he wasn't sorry, not even one little bit.

"I…wow. Thank you?" Kurt said, unsure. He wasn't used to such blatant compliments from men who weren't actively trying to get into his pants.

"Listen to me telling you this as if you don't know it or hear it all the time," Blaine grinned, still staring into Kurt's eyes.

"I certainly don't mind hearing it, though…and thank you…really. It's always nice to have a lovely, heartfelt compliment from someone who is so beautiful it takes your breath away some days," Kurt replied, figuring that if Blaine could be forward, that he could as well. They both sat there staring at one another until it became almost…odd. Now is when a really epic kiss should happen, right? Well, at least Kurt thought so…but, alas, it didn't happen. Blaine looked as if he were fighting some sort of internal battle, and Kurt wasn't sure what to think…so he spoke instead.

"So, tell me about your family?" Kurt asked, trying to bring back a bit of the easy conversation they had going earlier. Blaine hesitated, though, and Kurt thought perhaps he'd touched on a sore subject.

"My um…my parents still live in Ohio. They actually want me to come home for Christmas this year, but I don't think that's going to be an option, unfortunately. I have things going on here, obviously, that will keep me from traveling. My run as the elf will take me up until Christmas, I guess, and then…well, who knows. And if I were going to go somewhere, I'd go back to California to see Cooper and Elise and the baby," Blaine grinned.

"You seem very close with your brother. That's nice…I've never had that, really. I have a step brother, but he's back in Ohio and I'm here and we were never really…close…I guess. We get along just fine, but distance doesn't help the bonding thing."

"I've always been close with Cooper, despite the fact that he's 10 years older than me. My parents are…driven. They work a lot and Cooper was home with me much of the time when I was growing up and they were at work. Even when I was in high school, Coop was there a lot of the time. We're as different as night and day, but I love him, and Elise now, as well. I can't wait to see how he fares as a father," Blaine chuckled.

"When's the baby due?"

"Any day. Her actual due date is December 20th, but they've been saying the baby is big and perhaps they'd go early. I guess you never know with those things. Little nugget got me kicked out of my room, so you'd think I'd be bitter," Blaine laughed.

"Oh? You lived with Cooper and Elise, then?" Kurt asked. Blaine stiffened again and, if Kurt hadn't been looking right at him, he'd have missed it.

"For a short time, after I left another job, I…" Blaine trailed off, and tried to get his thoughts in order.

"What would YOU like to talk about, Blaine. I can see I've hit on a sore subject and I don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. We were cruising right along at the restaurant and I enjoyed that very much, so you tell me what you're comfortable with, ok?"

Blaine offered a grateful smile and reached for Kurt's hand. "If it's ok with you, I'm just really tired and I think I'm going to head home, ok?"

To say that Kurt was disappointed would be like saying Niagara Falls was like a dripping faucet. But he could tell that Blaine wasn't comfortable for some reason and he didn't want to push things.

"If that's what you need to do, then I'll see you on Monday, ok? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Blaine. I just really want to get to know you and I don't know what topics are off limits yet. I'm learning. And for what it's worth, I had a fantastic time at dinner," Kurt offered, helping Blaine into his coat at the door.

"I did as well, and I hope we can do it again?" Blaine asked.

"I'd like that. Go get some rest and I'll talk to you soon, ok?"

With a nod, Blaine turned to go and abruptly stopped in the hallway before he'd even taken five steps. Turning around swiftly he muttered something that sounded like "not leaving without…" and Kurt missed the rest as Blaine stepped up to him, tenderly placed both hands on Kurt's cheeks and kissed him on the lips, pulling away just as quickly, looking absolutely stunned…and then turned to go without another word.

Kurt would lay in bed for hours thinking of that kiss, his heart pounding as he considered that he'd never been kissed like that by anyone before, and he really, really hoped maybe Blaine would consider doing it again.

* * *

"It was both the most wonderful and most bizarre date of my life, Quinnie. I don't know what I said or why it freaked him out so much, but it obviously did and he just bolted," Kurt explained, striding up to their building Monday morning. He'd run into her at the top of the stairs after exiting the subway and they walked shoulder to shoulder the rest of the way in.

"So…dinner was great, conversation was amazing and you got on like a house on fire…and then he just shut down?" Quinn asked, confused.

"Yep. I was hoping, after dinner, that he'd come back to mine and we'd…um…well, a movie wasn't what I really wanted, let's just say that. But I'd have settled for a movie over stilted answers and awkward conversation. It was weird, as if something suddenly dawned on him and he didn't know what to say anymore. I don't want it to be awkward at work now, though. I hope it's not…" Kurt said as he pulled open the door to their building and held it for Quinn and the woman behind her who thanked him and went on her way.

"Well, we're about to find out, aren't we?" Quinn whispered, her eyes on the adorable man perched on the shelf behind Nicole. He sat as he always did, legs crossed and his hands folded together. He glanced their way as they walked in and gave Kurt such a longing look that it shook him. Kurt offered his best smile and winked at Blaine as they passed, gaining a sweet smile in return, Blaine's eyes twinkling from under his curls. Yes, things would be ok. He wouldn't allow 'them' to become weird because of one stilted and awkward conversation. Family was off limits unless Blaine brought it up. Noted.

* * *

The following week Kurt had lunch with Blaine twice, and they spent a few hours together after work twice as well, although Kurt couldn't help but think that Blaine was purposefully avoiding being together anywhere that wasn't a public place filled with people. It was both frustrating and annoying since all he really wanted was another kiss from Blaine. But Blaine staunchly refused to do anything more than hand holding and Kurt wanted to scream. In the end, he enjoyed their lunches, the ice skating and the shopping trip, and tried to tell himself that perhaps Blaine was just insanely shy. He didn't want to push. He certainly did not want a repeat of that night in his apartment where he had clearly made Blaine uncomfortable. Instead, he made up his mind to thoroughly enjoy the easy conversation between the two of them and hoped that the warmth and the spark in Blaine's eyes was a good sign.

The week before Christmas saw Kurt hustling his butt off to keep up with Preston's demands. In fact, he was doing the vast majority of Preston's work for him while his boss showed up late, left early and took extended lunches. He was tired of fielding phone calls from people looking for Preston, and finally took to answering honestly, that he really had no idea where Preston was and would certainly leave him a message to return the call when he showed up at the office. More than once, Mr. Dickerson stuck his head in the door looking for Preston as well. Kurt felt more than a little defeated when the man praised "Preston's work" on the navy pantsuit he'd presented the previous week. He felt sick knowing that it was his own design and he'd never get the recognition he deserved.

The week was tolerable mostly because of Kurt's constant contact with Blaine. Now that they had exchanged phone numbers, they texted regularly and kept in touch throughout the day and in the evenings as well. Blaine was a busy little elf, though, and they didn't get to hang out in person as much as Kurt would have liked that week. Blaine felt the same, but there was nothing he could do about it. Kurt actually started to think that maybe Blaine had another job in the evenings, but didn't want to tell Kurt. He was always doing something, rarely ever home for the night until later, and he wasn't at all forthcoming about his activities. Maybe elf jobs weren't very lucrative. Perhaps Blaine worked another job to be able to take Kurt on dates? Or maybe he just needed another source of income to afford his monthly bills? Moving was expensive, and he'd just moved cross country. Yikes. Kurt didn't want to pry, but he certainly was curious. Then again, Kurt didn't have much time to do anything during the week either, what with Preston sending him home nightly with work to do. Kurt had to be content with the flirty text messages and fun little goodies Blaine left on his desk every day.

_Blaine: Goodnight, handsome. I hope you had a pleasant evening?_

_Kurt: Preston will be pleased with my evening's activities. I think he's the only one, though. Dead tired. I hope your evening was better. _

_Blaine: I thought of you all night, so I'm certain it was. *winky face* Sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow! _

_Kurt: Goodnight, favorite elf! _

Kurt sat in his living room staring at his little tree, the bright lights bouncing off of the window panes and casting a warm glow around the living room. He missed Blaine when he wasn't around, and he sincerely hoped that when Blaine's elf gig was over that they'd still see each other. He wasn't ready to give Blaine up just yet. He was certainly the best Christmas present Kurt had gotten in a long while.

* * *

Blaine found Kurt sitting at his desk, his head in his hands and his shoulders slumped.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he said quietly, dropping a glittery gold gift bag on Kurt's desk.

"Not sure those are even worth a penny these days," Kurt replied, raising his head and giving Blaine a half-hearted smile.

"I'd have to disagree, but then, I'm but a lowly elf, so…." Blaine trailed off, his signature sweet smile beaming at Kurt. "Have lunch with me today?"

"I don't think I can leave. Preston's liable to show up any minute and I have so much to go over with him…I'm just overwhelmed and I can't move forward with any of this until he signs off on it," Kurt said, obviously up to his ears in paperwork on the desk.

"Everyone has to eat, Kurt. You're allowed to take a lunch, right? We can make it quick," Blaine cajoled.

Kurt seemed to consider it for a long minute, then gave in. "Just a quick lunch, then I have to get back to all this," he said, hand sweeping across the top of the desk. Preston's desk, however, was spotless.

Lunch was nice. It was good to get out of the office. He'd eaten at his desk every day that week, and as it was Friday, he was hopeful that there was a day or two of "less work" in his future. He wasn't fool enough to think that Preston wouldn't send him home for the weekend with instructions to sketch this and finish that up before Monday. The man was exhausting. He was also irritating, flaunting around the office that he was Big D's obvious choice, what with all the meetings they'd had lately, etc and so on. Kurt felt nauseous every time he thought about it.

"….and you're clearly not here anymore," Blaine said softly, running a finger over the back of Kurt's hand where it sat on the table between them.

"I'm sorry…I was…I was just off in my own head."

"What's on your mind?"

"If I should leave…find another job…try to find something in fashion where I don't have to work with and for an egomaniac who steals my ideas as well as my dignity and my pride…" he said in return. Blaine looked stricken, having obviously noticed that Kurt disliked how Preston treated him, but having no idea the depths of Kurt's obvious despair over the situation.

"Oh, Kurt…I hate that you feel this way. I wish I could…" Blaine trailed off, pulling his hand back from Kurt's as the bell over the door tinkled and they were both brought back to their table at the little hole in the wall restaurant. "Let me help you?"

"I appreciate that, Blaine, but I don't think there's much you can do…unless you spike Preston's little gift bag full of candy with something strong enough to knock him out?" Kurt joked.

"I really hate seeing you so down. I have seen your talent, Kurt, and it pains me that you won't say something about Preston stealing your designs. You deserve the credit for your own amazing ideas."

"Yes, I do, but right now…knowing that they're being praised, even as someone else's work, has to be enough. If I bring this out in the open, he'll find a way to make me look like a liar and I'll be let go. Preston's been with the company for almost 20 years. Who are they going to believe, him or me?" Kurt shook his head sadly and put his napkin on the table. "I should get back. Who knows when he'll show up and expect me to be there at his beck and call. Thank you for forcing me to have lunch, though. I always enjoy spending time with you, Blaine."

"Then go out with me this evening? Just dinner, if you want. I know you're exhausted. It doesn't have to be anything more than food, conversation and…just us. Please?"

Kurt thought about it and found a dozen reasons to say no, not the least of which was his bed calling his name – loudly. But the promise of unhurried conversation with Blaine tugged at him and he agreed to be picked up at 7 pm.

"Where are we going?"

"Let me surprise you?" Blaine said with a grin.

"What should I wear, though? You can't just leave me hanging like that, Blaine. Every day is an opportunity for fashion, you know?"

"Wear whatever makes you happy and we'll go from there. I have no doubt in my mind that whatever you don will be spectacular," Blaine said, and the twinkle in his eye make Kurt smile.

"Flatterer…"

"I speak only the truth, sir," Blaine replied gallantly.

They walked back down the block and into their office building to find a group of carolers serenading everyone in the lobby. They stood shoulder to shoulder and watched the singers for a moment, Blaine humming along with the carolers until the current song ended. Before the next song could begin Kurt leaned in and quietly told Blaine he'd better get upstairs because he knew Preston would be peeved if he was in the office and Kurt wasn't.

Kurt was right. When he returned from lunch Preston was there waiting, and he delivered a scathing diatribe on why Kurt shouldn't have left to eat, that there was way too much work to be done, etc. Kurt felt defeated, like he couldn't win, and briefly considered cancelling his date with Blaine. He thought better of it, though, and finished out the work day, hauling half the office home to do Preston's work over the weekend.

* * *

"Stunning, as always…" Blaine said as Kurt pulled the door open.

Once again, Blaine looked sinfully attractive and Kurt couldn't help but grin when he thought that this guy was the same silly, little elf who brightened his days.

Dinner was amazing. Blaine took him to a cute little tapas bar and they talked for hours over food and drinks. They discussed everything from politics to old friends, food, fashion and music as well. Kurt felt as if he could bring up any subject and he and Blaine could discuss it, at length, for hours without missing a beat. He'd never felt so in tune with anyone in his life, and he was really hoping Blaine felt the same way.

Blaine asked a lot of questions this time, and Kurt figured he was steering the conversation in directions that he was comfortable taking it.

"So, you talk about your dad a lot. You're close with him?"

"I am…after my mom died, it was just dad and me for a long time and we grew really close. He was my everything, ya know, because most of our family lives out of town. My grandmother, his mom, passed just two years after my mom did, and he was devastated all over again. We kind of…leaned on each other? We bonded over completely opposite things, really, which sounds weird but…I tried very hard to show interest in the things he enjoyed and he did the same for me. While we may not have been head over heels for the other's weekend hang-out plans, we made the best of it."

"He sounds awesome. You're really lucky to have a dad like that, Kurt."

"I am, and I know it. He's remarried since then and Carole is really great. I couldn't ask for a better step mom or a better companion for my dad. They go on weekend trips all the time and she actually enjoys listening to him talk about engines and tires," Kurt laughed.

"Oh? He's into cars?"

"He owns Hummel Tire and Lube back in Lima. It started as a little tiny hole in the wall joint, and now he has seven bays and enough steady business that he employs eight guys full time."

"And do you know how to change a tire, Kurt Hummel?" Blaine teased.

"I do, not that there's much call for it here in the city. I left my car at home in the garage. But I can still do an oil change faster than anyone he has on staff," Kurt laughed, then blushed as he saw a hint of something flicker in Blaine's eyes. "Oh…what's this, Mr. Anderson? Do we have a _thing_ for engine grease?" Kurt teased him right back.

"Maybe. We may have to investigate that someday…" Blaine trailed off, breathlessly staring into Kurt's eyes. Kurt found himself taking deep, even breaths to keep from panting. A turned-on Blaine was a thing of sheer beauty.

"Should we um…should we go? We've been here for hours," Kurt asked, noting the time.

"We can. I'll leave her a nice tip to make up for it," Blaine grinned, pulling out his wallet.

"No, you paid last time!" Kurt argued.

"I did, because I asked you out. And I believe I asked you out for this evening as well, and therefore, I'll pay. I don't mind, and I don't want you to stress over money, Kurt. Please let me?" Blaine asked, and the way he quickly handed his card to the server with their bill left no room for argument.

"Then next time it's my treat," Kurt relented.

"Fair enough…as long as you promise there will be a next time," Blaine said with a wink.

"I promise, then," Kurt grinned.

Blaine insisted on walking him home, and Kurt promised himself he wouldn't allow Blaine to leave without at least another goodnight kiss. He firmly swore off mentioning Blaine's family after the last snafu.

"So…you're welcome to come in if you want?" Kurt offered.

"I'd love to…but I won't. I can see that you're tired, so I'll say my goodbyes and you can text me or whatever tomorrow after you've gotten a good night's rest, ok?"

Kurt was a little disappointed, but also quite tired, so he just nodded and bit his bottom lip, trying hard not to surge forward and grab Blaine's face in his hands. When Blaine lifted Kurt's hand and kissed the back of it, he felt the floor shift under him, just like last time. Blaine just _did_ things to him. This was it…_take a chance, Kurt_, he said to himself.

Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine's lips, just a soft press of skin on skin, but before he could get close, Blaine pulled back with a forced smile and blurted out "I'll see you soon, Kurt…" then turned on his heel and hurried away down the hall. Kurt was…crushed.

* * *

The next day, Saturday, Kurt did not text or call Blaine. And Sunday he was quiet as well. He didn't know how to deal with the mixed signals and he felt awkward now, not wanting to run into Blaine on Monday for fear that the rejection he felt would be all over his face. He could certainly call Rachel and tell her what was going on, but hearing her snicker at him again for dating an elf was more than he could take at the moment. He'd had enough of that after his first lunch with Blaine. He really wanted to talk to Quinn, but she'd gone home for the weekend to celebrate Christmas with her family, knowing that she would have to be back in the city for their Christmas party at work. He wasn't selfish enough to call her and interrupt her visit with her parents. Quinn deserved the time off, having been so busy for weeks now. She had been put in charge of planning most of the Christmas party, after all, and he'd barely seen her at all the previous week, so she had no idea what was going on with him and Blaine. He wanted his work bestie around, and he needed to bounce some things off of her. Instead, he worked on things she'd asked him to help with for the party.

"Kurt, wait up!" Quinn called on Monday morning, speed walking up behind Kurt on the sidewalk. "How was your weekend?"

"It was…ok. I guess," Kurt replied, forcing a smile.

"Wow, if you were any more convincing—"

"It sucked, ok? Sucked. I went out with Blaine on Friday night and it was just…weird. We went to a tapas place, we talked and laughed for hours and it was great, amazing, wonderful, comfortable…and then he walked me home."

"And?"

"And I leaned in to kiss him and he bolted like he'd been burned. The mixed signals are killing me, Quinnie, and I don't know what to do. I'm beginning to think maybe he's asexual or something, which…to each his own and all that but…" Kurt trailed off with a sigh.

"That is rather weird," she said, brow furrowed. "Was he yawning or feeling badly after your dinner?"

"Nope, nothing like that. He was his normal, amazing, witty and charming self. We had a great time. He walked me home and all the way up to my door and then…wham. Nothing. I leaned in to kiss him and he pulled away from me like I was about ready to bestow upon him the kiss of death."

"Did you speak with him after that?"

"Nope, not a word. He said I could call him or text him Saturday or Sunday, but I couldn't. I just…I felt so stupid after leaning in to kiss him and being all but shoved away. I don't think I can keep this up, Quinn. I really, really like him and I think we could be great together, but it's just…I don't know how much of this continuous rejection I can take when I want a kiss or…more. I feel stupid now, and I know I'll see him today," Kurt said sadly.

"I wouldn't give up on things just yet, Kurt. Maybe he has a really good reason? Maybe he has a cold or something. Maybe he's just not "there" yet, ya know? But my bet is that it's certainly not because he doesn't like you. He does, and it's no secret."

"Meaning?" Kurt asked, unsure what she meant.

Quinn nodded toward Nicole's desk as they walked through the front doors of the office building. Blaine was nowhere in sight, but…

"Oh, my sweet baby Jesus…" Kurt breathed out, eyes wide and duly stunned.

There, on Nicole's desk, sat the biggest bouquet of stunning yellow and red roses Kurt had ever seen. There had to be at least two dozen flowers in the vase. A pick sticking up from the center of the arrangement read simply "KURT", but it was written at least four inches tall on a huge piece of cardstock in bright, fluorescent, Grinch green.

"I'm fairly sure he didn't want you to miss those when you came in today," Quinn giggled, nudging Kurt with her shoulder.

"Well, well, well…someone must have put out this weekend," Nicole teased him as he tentatively walked over and stuck his face in the blooms. They smelled divine, just as he knew they would. "Who in the world sent you such stunning flowers, Kurt?" she asked with a kind smile.

"A boy never kisses and tells, Nicole…" Kurt grinned, winking at her.

"I could have already looked at the card, you know."

"But you didn't, unless you licked the envelope closed again," Kurt teased right back. He pulled the card from the pick and slid his finger under the flap to open it, biting his lip to hide the grin that threatened to overtake his face.

_Kurt…I have my reasons. Please be patient with me. I enjoy my time with you so much, and I don't want to ruin it by rushing into things that should wait…just a few more days, please. Love, B._

Kurt pulled the card to his chest, but not quickly enough.

"He signed it with "Love", Kurt," Quinn whispered in his ear so that nobody around them would hear. "See, I told you so. I just love saying that," she giggled, then nudged him with her shoulder. "Do you need help getting them upstairs?"

"Oh…I might…my hands are already full with all of this stuff for the party," Kurt said. He'd been working on things for Quinn all weekend when he wasn't working on ten other things for Preston. She'd put him in charge of the little place cards that told everyone where to sit for the Christmas party, also the numbers for the tables, as well as the signage for the food to tell everyone what was in each dish. Just thinking about those made him hungry; he couldn't wait for beef tenderloin with bearnaise, Chicken Noel, pesto mashed potatoes, garlic green beans with almonds and tossed salad with feta and dried cranberries after writing out the menu that weekend. He wasn't looking forward to the party that evening before he'd left for work, but now…with the beautiful flowers…he was sure to have a much better day, Preston or no Preston. Perhaps the evening would be better than he'd thought.

"No elf today?" Quinn asked Nicole, nodding to the empty ledge behind the receptionist as she picked up Kurt's beautiful flowers.

"Oh, he's here somewhere. I saw him this morning, loading up one last round of goodies, I guess. I'm going to miss that little elf when he's gone. I've grown fond of him, ya know? He's a pretty nice guy, and he's easy on the eyes, too," she grinned, then winked at them as they walked away.

"Yes…he is that, isn't he?" Kurt winked back.

Preston scowled at the flowers as Quinn sat them on Kurt's desk.

"Lunch with me today?" she asked sweetly.

"I thought you'd have a hundred last minute things to do for the party tonight?" Kurt replied.

"With your help, I've got it all in hand. I'm not the only one on the committee, you know, and they can handle some things on their own. Besides, there's a meeting after lunch that I have to sit in on and I can't do that with an empty stomach. The last time my belly growled so loudly that everyone turned to look at me with so much judgement," she laughed.

"Ok…yes. Rosie's?" Kurt asked. It was close and he didn't want to be gone too long. Preston grunted his disapproval at the hole in the wall diner across the street.

"Definitely," she grinned, looking at Preston and rolling her eyes at the man when she knew he wasn't looking.

"12:30?"

"Meet you in the lobby."

* * *

Kurt had just walked into the office after lunch when Preston started in on him.

He was bent over Kurt's desk, his sketches strewn across the flat surface and some on his chair. Kurt nearly roared as he came in the door with how his boss was handling the drawings and he had to count to ten in order to maintain his composure.

"The red dress, Kurt. Where is it?"

"No," Kurt said simply. There was no way in hell he was going to allow Preston to take credit for that dress. No. Way. It was Kurt's pride and joy and he would not, under any circumstances, allow Preston to have it. He'd hidden it away, and in fact, taken it out of his portfolio altogether and kept it at home to avoid this very thing.

"I want it, Kurt, and I won't ask again," Preston said firmly.

"And I said no, which means you can't have it. I won't allow you to take credit for that one. I'm not sorry, Preston. It's mine…my work, my favorite design, and—"

"And you clearly don't want to continue working here or you'd be handing me that design right now, Kurt," Preston hissed, looking over his shoulder as he saw Mr. Dickerson exit the elevator and head their way.

"NO," Kurt said again, low and dangerous. "What are you going to do, tell Mr. Dickerson on me? Tell him that I refuse to hand over MY design to you so that you can steal the credit as you've been doing for months?"

"KURT," Preston hissed back. "Do not push me…"

"I said no and I meant it" Kurt growled, then "Good afternoon, Mr. Dickerson!"

"Hello, Hummel. Preston. You had something you wanted to show me?"

"I…yeah, I've misplaced it, apparently. Kurt…the red dress?" he said, his voice tinged with the threat he surely meant.

"I haven't seen that one, Preston, I'm sorry. Did you leave it at home?" Kurt asked sweetly. Preston glared holes through Kurt's forehead and Kurt shook so violently he thought he might fall right out of his chair.

"Hummel, so help me…" Preston hissed quietly, his eyes wide and his face red. "If you fuck this promotion up for me, I will end you!" Mr. Dickerson stood across the room in the doorway, completely unaware of the conversation taking place between the two men. The stress and anxiety filling the room was palpable and Kurt was sure he could have sliced off a chunk of 'tension' for himself and put it on a plate it was so thick.

"We can come back to that, Preston, let's get down to the meeting. Kurt, you may want to tag along. There are minutes to be taken and Preston will need to know everything in detail for later," Mr. Dickerson stated. Kurt felt ill. This was it. Preston was getting the job and Kurt would be his whipping boy for the foreseeable future.

"Yes, Kurt, why not tag along and take some notes on how _my_ company runs when everyone does what they're told to do," Preston growled out, his eyes hard and his jaw set. Preston turned to follow his boss down the hall leaving Kurt to grab a legal pad and pen and nearly run down the hall behind them.

Kurt sat down next to Quinn, refusing so sit near his own boss for fear that the man would hiss threats in his ear throughout the whole meeting.

"You ok? You look…not ok," she asked quietly as her uncle strode to the front of the room. They were obviously the last ones to arrive, and Kurt sat near the back where Quinn had saved a chair for him. Both sides of the long, rectangular conference table were lined with so many people that Kurt couldn't even make out who was in attendance, but it hardly mattered. He was but a fly on the wall here, of no consequence, just ask Preston, who was hissing at an intern at the back of the room. Kurt had never been asked to sit in on one of these meetings before and he started to shake his head no at Quinn, but jerked hard as his seat was bumped by the one beside it. Preston had risen from his own chair where he'd previously sat and moved over next to Kurt. Quinn was certain she heard him whimper.

"After this meeting you can pack up your shit and get out. You're fired. Do you hear me, Hummel? Take notes, leave them on my desk and get the hell out. I will not allow the likes of you to ruin this for me, do you understand?"

Kurt couldn't answer. He simply sat in his chair, eyes wide and heart pounding, trying to take slow breaths so that he didn't vomit or pass out. _Concentrate on the beautiful, colorful lights on the tree in the corner, Kurt…._ He felt tears prickle behind his lids and took a deep gulp of air, thinking of the beautiful flowers on his desk. _Focus on one good thing_, he told himself. Would he at least see Blaine at the party that evening? Oh God, could he even still attend the party? Probably not. Surely Preston would make a scene if he did. But he had Blaine's number. He'd still be able to keep in touch.

"Well, let me start off this little shindig by wishing everyone Happy Holidays!" Mr. Dickerson boomed, his face bright with merriment and Christmas cheer. "I hope everyone has enjoyed the extras we tried to work on this year," he said, and everyone nodded their agreement, smiles all around, one of the women raving about how much her children enjoyed the breakfast with Santa the previous weekend.

Kurt was aware that the gift cards given out at the end of the weeks leading up to Christmas weren't small change, and he'd hoped to win one but, unfortunately, he had not. But, in the big scheme of things, he got Blaine instead, and for that, he figured he was much richer. Would Blaine still want to date him if he was unemployed? For that matter, would Blaine be unemployed after the party that evening? Technically, their holiday festivities would be over.

"…and many of you know I plan to retire soon and, as such, I will have to appoint someone to oversee the company…" Kurt heard from the front of the room. Mr. Dickerson bestowed a big grin in their direction and he heard Quinn hum next to him. He felt ill for everyone in the company, knowing they'd have to work under Preston. What a damn nightmare. Mr. Dickerson stared right at Preston, his smile bright and his face ruddy with excitement. At that moment, the intern walked up to Preston and leaned in, handing him a portfolio while also glancing nervously at Kurt.

"These stay with me," Preston smiled, his malicious grin a cold, prickly slap in the face to Kurt when he realized that Preston held the portfolio which had all of his in-progress sketches inside. Any minute now Kurt was sure he'd vomit up his lunch. What had he been thinking, bringing everything here to work?

"…has really picked up his game lately, and I'm told he has some other things to share with us. Preston?"

"Yes, I wanted to show you this particular collection…" Preston said with such confidence that Kurt nearly wailed his displeasure watching the man saunter to the front of the room with his sketches. As it was, he couldn't have uttered a word if his very life depended on it. He was rooted to the spot, watching someone else take credit for his hard work. Again. At that point he just wanted to cut is losses and run. Quinn grabbed his arm to get his attention.

"Stay with me, Kurt. It'll be worth it," she leaned in and said softly.

"So you see, the whole collection works together, and if you just switch up this blazer with this shrug, you can take the style from the office to the nightclub quickly and without any fuss," Preston was explaining, now standing before the assembled group of twenty or more of Kurt's co-workers near the front of the room. He'd pulled at least a dozen of Kurt's designs from the portfolio and presented them…very well. Kurt's first thought was that he should be so happy that everyone seemed to gush over what they saw, even Mr. Dickerson. They all praised the work and asked all the right questions, which…Preston answered. Not Kurt. Not the man who had spent hours, days, weeks, months, putting his heart and soul onto that paper. All eyes were on Preston and Kurt's mind was whirring. He'd already been fired. What should stop him from standing up and shouting that the designs were his. Even if they didn't all believe him, surely _someone_ would be suspicious, right?

"I just have one question…" came a honeyed voice from the front of the room, from the same side of the table on which Kurt rested, but far enough away that he couldn't see its owner. Kurt heard the words and they didn't belong in that room. They didn't belong somewhere that had become the seventh level of hell for him. No, that voice made him happy, so what was it doing here? He saw an arm raised a bit, as if to hail a taxi, and watched as the man lowered his arm, then tugged on his shirt sleeve under his clearly expensive suit jacket as his wrists rested again on the table. Yes, that voice was completely out of place here. Were those diamond cufflinks at his wrists?

"And you are?" Preston asked as he turned to stare daggers at the newcomer.

"Oh, forgive my manners. Everyone, esteemed colleagues, this is my nephew, Blaine Anderson," Mr. Dickerson said, his grin wide as he introduced the man of whom he was clearly so very proud. He dropped a large, solid hand on Blaine's shoulder and offered him a blinding smile. The room spun and Kurt tried desperately to shove his chair back so that he could run like hell from the conference table and back to the safety of his office. What was happening? Mr. Dickerson's nephew? _NEPHEW?_

Kurt turned wide, accusing eyes to Quinn who merely bit her lip and shrugged, refusing to make eye contact. She knew he'd have some strong words for him after the meeting.

Blaine stood so that he could be seen by everyone, then offered a somewhat shy wave. He had clearly been to a salon since Kurt had seen him Friday night, as his hair was cut short and obviously styled to perfection. He looked so put together, so professional that it took Kurt's mind a moment to catch up. He was clean shaven, unlike the five-o'clock-shadow-Blaine that Kurt had seen that weekend. The suit he wore was the height of fashion and probably cost more than Kurt made in a month. And his bright smile…landed squarely on Kurt for just a split second. The tiniest, sorrowful, brief nod was given, and it was as if Blaine whispered "Courage…" right in to Kurt's ear.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Blaine…and from the looks on some of your faces, I'm sure you've already figured out that we've met before today," he said matter-of-factly.

"If you move from that seat I'll tackle you to the floor, Kurt Hummel, and this skirt is way too short for me to be doing any such thing, so you stay put!" Quinn hissed in his ear with a smirk. "Hold on…just hold on for a few more minutes."

"I'm going to vomit…" Kurt whispered back. "Please, Quinn…"

"STAY!" she growled, and now those around them were starting to notice.

"You had a question, Blaine?" Mr. Dickerson asked.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I was only wondering…what is this little…flourish…going on here at the hemline?" Blaine asked, standing to approach the sketch Preston had settled on an easel at the front of the room.

"What flourish?" Preston asked with distain.

"Here…it's right here," Blaine said, pointing out the stylized 'k' that Kurt included in every drawing.

"It's a …it's nothing, just a little slip of the pencil," Preston said, annoyed now at being interrupted. He started to speak again, but Blaine interrupted him mid-sentence.

"I only ask because I was looking at all of the other designs you've submitted recently, and it's there in all of them. Surely you don't 'mistakenly' put the same little flourish on every drawing without a reason? I mean…if it were a 'p' I could understand, you being the one who drew these and all, but…why a 'k', Preston?"

You could have heard a pin drop at that moment. It was as if, simultaneously, everyone in the room saw the lightbulb go off over Preston's head. He was caught. At the same time, Preston realized where he'd seen Blaine before, and this was hardly the same, shaggy, curly-haired boy who'd traipsed into his office hitting on Hummel for several weeks now. Wait…

"Oh no you don't, elf man. Just because you have the hots for Hummel doesn't mean-"

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked, incredulously.

"Oh, don't play coy with me, Anderson. I know the two of you went out to lunch—"

"We did, yes," Blaine smiled. "Riley, you and I had lunch one day as well, did we not?"

"We did," she smiled. "The company was top notch," the woman answered, her grin showing that she was well aware of what was going on here.

"And Dave, I believe you and I had lunch together last week, too, right? Andrea, Susan, Philip, Garrett, Quinn, Michael, Andi, Maribeth, Gene, Travis, Maribelle and Marshall…we've all been out to lunch in the past few weeks, have we not?" Blaine asked. They all confirmed that they had, indeed, eaten a meal with Blaine. "Do you also allege that I 'have the hots' for each of these other peers as well?" Blaine asked. "Or, is this just another way for you to shift the attention from the fact that you've been forcing your assistant, Mr. Hummel, to hand over his own fantastic design ideas so that you can claim them as your own. That _is_ what you've been doing, isn't it, Preston?" Blaine asked, and now he wasn't smiling.

"I believe it's you who are avoiding the question. You're an idiot if you think you mean anything to him. He's obviously only sleeping with you to get ahead in the company!" Preston growled. "Mark my words, you mean nothing to that worthless, little shit!"

"I am not now, nor have I ever, slept with Kurt!" Blaine snapped, his eyes hard and his jaw set.

"Preston! I will not have you speaking of another co-worker in such a way and making these accusations!" Mr. Dickerson roared, "and I suggest you show Blaine some respect, especially since he'll be the one taking over for me when I retire! I'd like everyone to meet your new boss," he said with a wide, proud grin, his hand once again coming to rest on Blaine's shoulder. It was clear that Mr. Dickerson was thoroughly enjoying the wide eyed, disbelieving stare as all the blood drained from Preston's face.

"Hummel, you little son of a bitch. YOU did this, didn't you!? YOU seduced this fool solely to get back at me! Well, I hope he was a good fuck," Preston yelled at Blaine, "because he won't be here for you to play with anymore, Anderson. I've already fired him! I'd like to see you try to—"

Preston surely would have finished his tirade if he hadn't been cut off by the sound from the other end of the room, a barely restrained, low whimper, like that of a wounded animal, as Kurt fled the meeting. Quinn reached out for him as he nearly tumbled from his seat to leave the room as quickly as possible, but he was already out of reach. His heart in his throat, his eyes full of tears and his lunch making its way back up, he ran down the hallway, uncaring of whoever might see him in such a state. He closed and locked the office door so he could pack up his things in peace and get out with as little fanfare as possible. As he fled the assembled coworkers, Kurt heard Preston's evil laugh bellowing down the hall behind him.

"How DARE you!?" Blaine growled at Preston. Everyone else around the conference table sat ramrod straight, eyes bright and eager to see how this all played out. Preston was clearly not a favorite and finding out that Blaine, the kind, fun little elf who'd befriended everyone in the office over the past three and a half weeks, would be their boss instead of the tyrant…well, they could barely contain themselves.

"That was absolutely uncalled for, Preston!" Mr. Dickerson roared, his distaste clear in his tone.

"Me? ME!? Dickerson, how dare you lead me on, lead me to believe that I'd be the one taking over when you clearly had no intention—"

"You're right. I had no intention of ever leaving you in charge, Preston. Truth be told, I'm absolutely dumbfounded as to what in the world would make you think you're the man for the job. You are rarely here when you should be, you come in late, leave early, take long lunches which the company has been paying for, apparently, and the work you've been submitting isn't even your own, for goodness sake!" Mr. Dickerson told him with wide, disbelieving eyes, shaking his head.

It was clear that thoughts were working their way around in Preston's head, going back to meetings he'd been in where he had assumed he'd eventually be in charge, but never had Big D actually said that he was even in contention for the spot. He had just assumed…with all of his great designs, and everything…

"I believe there is the matter of the compensation you've received which you clearly did not deserve, Preston," Garrett piped up, and all eyes turned to the accounting manager. "You used Mr. Hummel's designs for three pieces in last year's fall and winter collections, if I'm not mistaken. The spring collection contained several pieces that you submitted and, correct me if I'm wrong, those designs were Mr. Hummel's as well. You received quite a lump sum for the original designs, not to mention several checks since then, and it's clear that the compensation was given to the wrong party."

"Those are MY designs!" Preston yelled, eyes wild as he saw his world crumbling before him and with plenty of witnesses, no less.

"Unfortunately," Mr. Dickerson began, clearly not amused at this point, "as I've been over every sketch you've submitted, as well as those in Mr. Hummel's portfolio that we've seen today, it seems that those sketches are, indeed, the property of Mr. Hummel. As such, he will be compensated for said designs, and you will pay back the amount which you have taken by misleading—"

"Over. My. Dead. BODY!" Preston roared, and several of the coworkers around the table actually startled in their seats. "You listen to me, old man," Preston began again, but Blaine cut him off.

"No, YOU listen, Preston. You do not speak to my uncle that way! He is still your boss, and as such, he deserves your respect, and your behavior is not acceptable, nor will it be tolerated!" Blaine growled.

"Oh, you just kiss my—"

"Preston, you're fired," Mr. Dickerson said calmly. He nodded toward the doors where a security guard entered, having taken up his post outside the room before the meeting began. Clearly, they thought Preston might cause a scene and the guard would be needed. "Get out. Security will escort you. If you go quietly, you will be paid for the upcoming week. If you cause a ruckus on your way out, I will contact our attorneys and we can handle things that way. It's your choice."

"You won't get away with this!" Preston shouted, shaking his fist at the assembled group. "This is an outrage!"

"An outrage is when a seasoned 'designer' forcibly takes drawings from his young assistant and attempts to pass them off as his own…then takes money for those designs and refuses to man up and take responsibility when he's called out for his misdeeds. That, Preston, is an outrage. I'll thank you to leave quietly. Some of us have a meeting to return to. Please see this gentleman to the front doors and out of the building immediately?" Mr. Dickerson asked of the security guard, who approached Preston warily. "I'll see that your personal items are returned to you. You may pick them up from building security on the ground floor in the morning. Don't even think about stepping on the elevators after you've collected your things tomorrow, Preston."

"You'll hear from my attorney, Dickerson!"

"Very well, then he can speak to _my_ attorneys regarding the fraud you've committed against the company and a coworker, as well as monies owed back to the company. Keep this up and I'll make sure you never work in fashion in this, or any other city, ever again." Mr. Dickerson answered calmly.

Blaine was certain that he'd hear a cheer from the assembled employees once Preston was gone, but they all sat staring at their boss, stunned at the day's events.

"Well, that was exciting." Mr. Dickerson said with almost disinterest. Blaine couldn't sit still any longer. He stood from his seat and pushed the chair back, striding for the door.

"Blaine! Don't—"

"I'm not going after _him_, Uncle J, I'm going after Kurt."

"Let me?" Quinn asked, her eyes intent on Blaine's.

"No, at the very least I owe him an apology, Quinn. He'll be angry with me…" Blaine trailed off as he shoved through the heavy conference room doors in search of Kurt.

He took long strides down the hallway and found the door to Preston's office open, but there was no sign of Kurt or any of his things. It was as if he'd never been there, except for the huge bouquet of roses on his desk that had been left behind.

* * *

Kurt had hastily thrown everything he could get his hands on into a reusable shopping bag and bolted. He took only his own, personal things, of course, and he all but ran for the elevator, expecting Preston to come after him with more vile words at any moment. He had to get away before there was a bigger scene. He couldn't do it. He was just too flustered, wound up and sick to his stomach. He calmly exited the building and then picked up the pace when he neared the subway station that he needed. Then he plotted a course for the nearest safe space.

"Can I come in?" he said quietly, looking up from under his eyelashes at his best friend as she pulled her door open.

"Oh, for goodness sake, of course you can, Kurt. I can't believe you even knocked. Use your key, silly. Why aren't you…at work…" she trailed off, obviously just noticing Kurt's slumped posture and defeated countenance, not to mention that he was carrying a ton of odd stuff that was out of place. "What's going on?"

"He fired me," Kurt said softly. "It was really awful, and Blaine lied to me…kind of and…I just need my best friend, Rach."

"Oh, honey," she said, throwing her arms around him and squeezing tightly. "C'mon…come in. Tell me what happened! Preston _fired_ you!? After using your designs all this time and passing them off as his own, he just…fired you?"

Kurt told her the whole story, right up to the point where he fled the meeting, tail between his legs, and ran to her apartment. Rachel's solution was exactly what he needed: Musicals and ice cream.

"If I go back to mine, I'm sure Blaine will come over. I don't want his pity. And I can't believe he didn't tell me, and pretended to be an elf for weeks!" Kurt shook his head and dug into his Cherry Garcia, eyes closed. "I'm going to have to ask my dad for money if I don't find another job immediately, and then I'll have to deal with his pity as well. Gawd, what a hellish day. I just want to sleep and forget it all."

"Well, you know you're welcome to stay here tonight, or any night for that matter. In fact, if you don't find something right away, you can ditch your place and move in with me. We used to have a great time living together, didn't we?" She beamed. Kurt grinned and rolled his eyes.

"We used to live together. We'll leave it at that, _Ms. I sing at all hours at the top of my lungs without warning_."

"Hey!" Rachel gasped, almost offended, but then thought better of it and relented. "Yeah, ok, I'll give you that," she laughed. "But the offer still stands."

"And I appreciate the offer, believe me. Thanks, Rach," he said softly, leaning over to lay his head on her shoulder after setting his now empty bowl down on the table in front of the sofa.

"You really must like Blaine if you're this upset over all this, Kurt. You didn't say."

"I didn't say much because I didn't want to jinx it. And because I knew you'd get on me for dating someone who was an elf, and then ride me about what the future with an elf would be, etc. He was just…kind of amazing. He was easy to talk to, such a sweetheart, smart, funny, interesting and…well, I thought he was sincere, too. Didn't hurt that he was hot as hell, and the one, decent, short kiss I got was something I'll never forget. Then, at the meeting, he yelled out 'I am not, nor have I ever, slept with Kurt!' and I realized that we must have been on drastically different pages. In fact, Blaine was probably in a completely different book! No wonder he kept pulling away from me when I wanted more. He's so far out of my league, especially if he ends up taking over for Preston. I don't know what I was thinking…that he and I could be _something_. I can only assume he was buttering me up so that I wouldn't sue the company for using my designs without my permission," Kurt said quietly.

"Aww…honey, I don't know that we're seeing the big picture here. I mean…maybe he had a reason for pulling back. A guy doesn't ask you out, multiple times, if he's not interested. Maybe he enjoys your company as much as you enjoy his and he was trying to just keep things casual because he knew what was coming and he didn't want you to fall in too deep just to be slapped in the head with the news of him being the Big D's nephew?"

"Oh God, now you sound like Quinn. Stop calling him that!" Kurt chuckled, then the thought occurred to him that Quinn had to have known. "Wait…if Blaine is Mr. Dickerson's nephew, and Quinn is Dickerson's niece, then she HAD to have known—"

"Yikes…yeah, you'd think. I mean, even if Quinn's related from the other side of the family, you'd think she would have known, maybe hinted to you that something was up. She didn't say anything?"

"Not a word, but…it was weird, the very first day I came in and saw him sitting there on the ledge behind Nicole, Quinn came in the building right behind me. I had walked to the elevator as she was coming in and she saw him and…" Kurt trailed off as he remembered the scene, and then considered what might have happened. "Her eyes went wide and she said 'Oh my God, what are you doing?' right to him, as if she knew him and was surprised at what he was doing. She didn't say 'holy cow, Nicole, what is that guy doing?', she spoke right to him. She's known all along and said nothing," Kurt told Rachel, shaking his head. "And, apparently, she knew what was going to happen at the meeting today, too. She kept grabbing my arm and telling me to stay put, not to leave…"

"I've known Quinn a long time, Kurt. She's not a mean person. If she didn't say anything, she had her reasons. Talk to her first before you get all bent out of shape, ok?" Rachel suggested. Kurt merely shrugged and nodded.

"Can I crash here? I'm exhausted, mentally and physically, and I don't want to go home alone. I was supposed to be at the Christmas party tonight."

"You don't even have to ask. You're always welcome here."

"I'll take the sofa if you have blankets."

"It's lumpy as hell, Kurt. You can bunk with me, I have room. It'll be like old times…like when Finn broke up with me for the last time and I didn't leave my bed for three days. You held me while I cried and I'll never forget that."

"I won't either. Man, you really needed a shower…" Kurt teased.

"HEY!" Rachel wailed, slugging him with a throw pillow as they both laughed.

"Let me clean up my mess. I just dropped everything at the front door when I came in."

"It's no big deal. Leave it all. Just make sure your portfolio doesn't slump and ruin all of your drawings," Rachel said as she walked off to the kitchen to put their ice cream bowls in the sink.

"I don't even have it…Preston took it and it's somewhere in the conference room at work—" Kurt began, but the look of horror on Rachel's face stopped him mid-sentence.

"Ohhhh, no. No, Kurt. They do NOT get to keep YOUR drawings. You have to go get them back!"

"What? Now? Of course, I want them back, but…what?" Kurt asked, the devious look in Rachel's eyes a warning in and of itself. "No, Rachel…" he said, shaking his head.

"We're going back for your stuff, Kurt. While everyone else is in the fancy party room, we're getting your sketches back. Those are _your_ designs and they were stolen from you! You can't just…just LEAVE them there for Preston to claim as his own!"

"Well, they know they're mine now…Blaine called him out and—"

"But Preston fired you! They don't get to keep your work, months and months of hard work, and then fire you! Please don't even tell me you're not angry about that? You don't want your designs back?!" Rachel nearly yelled.

"Of course, I do, but what am I supposed to do? Walk in there and demand them back mid meeting next week? Or slink in in the dead of night and steal them back?"

The devious look in Rachel's eyes and cat-who-ate-the-canary grin should have been a warning, but Kurt didn't see it until it was too late.

* * *

Kurt was dressed to the nines as he walked into the building that evening. He strode past the normal security guard at the front doors as he had hundreds of times, nodding to him as always and offering a smile. The only difference this time was that he wasn't alone and carrying all of his work paraphernalia…oh, and Rachel was on his arm in a swanky, black dress. They were dressed for the Christmas party, but had no intention of attending said party. No, they were going up to the 14th floor and they were going to find Kurt's portfolio. Then they were going to run like hell.

"Apparently, word hasn't reached security that I'm no longer employed here," Kurt whispered as the elevator doors closed in their faces. They rode up to the 14th floor in silence, both of their hearts beating wildly and their adrenaline rushing.

"Where's the Christmas party?" Rachel asked quietly. She was awfully quiet for being the one who prompted this crazy idea.

"Twentieth floor ballroom…hors d'oeuvres, sit down dinner, recognitions, awards, etc. They should be just about to the salad by now," he chuckled.

The doors opened on the 14th floor and Kurt peeked out first, scanning up and down the hall and finding it thankfully empty. He stepped out, hand curled around Rachel's, and went to the first place that made any sense – his office…or, Preston's…whatever. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the bells he'd attached to the wreath on the door rang out. Turning the door knob he pushed the door open and peered inside. Empty. Flicking on his desk lamp, he went about quickly scouring the office to see if Preston had shoved his portfolio anywhere before the party, but it was nowhere to be found.

"So now where should we look?" Rachel asked, and she startled Kurt so badly again that he jumped and nearly knocked over a chair.

"Woman! Whisper, will you?" Kurt growled.

"Why? We're the only ones on this floor, I bet. Everyone else is at the party, Kurt."

"STILL!" he hissed back, heart pounding. "Ok, let's try the conference room. That's where I left them this afternoon."

They made their way to the conference room, Kurt keeping close to the walls and Rachel sauntering down the middle of the hallway as if she owned the place. Kurt rolled his eyes, nervous as could be, and slipped through the doors to the massive room.

It looked much as it had that afternoon, a long wooden table with two dozen chairs around it, floor to ceiling windows which looked out over the city on two sides of the room, and an eerie darkness due to the lack of lighting. The only light in the room was that of the twinkling lights on the tree in the corner.

"Wow, that's a heck of a view, isn't it?" Rachel asked, standing before the windows.

"It's lovely, now can we look for my drawings and get the heck out of here?"

"Spoilsport. I say we find them and then crash that party upstairs and take a plate to go. They owe you that much and I'm starving. We should have eaten dinner before we came here," she groused, and Kurt heard her stomach growling across the room. They both snickered, but then heard the dinging of the elevator and froze in place. From where they were, it was hard to tell if the elevator doors had opened and if anyone had gotten off on that floor, so they stood silently, listening intently, until they felt it was safe to move, having heard nothing.

"There's nothing in here, Kurt," Rachel said, after looking under the podium in the front as well as under the table and between all the chairs. "If your portfolio is here, someone else has it. Probably Big D himself walked off with them."

"Rachel…I can't sneak into Mr. Dickerson's office!" Kurt hissed. "He'll kill me, or fire me, or…"

"You've already been fired. You're merely collecting what belongs to you, which…depending on how you look at it, has been stolen from you, Kurt. You're only taking back what's yours," she said seriously, looking down her nose at him haughtily.

Kurt thought about it for a moment, then relented. She did have a point. They were his drawings in his portfolio and they belonged in his possession.

"Let's go. I'm not leaving here without 'em," he said regally. "That's my heart and soul on those pages!"

"That's the spirit!" she grinned, taking his hand as they walked out of the conference room. "Where's Big D's office?"

"Oh my GOD, stop calling him that!" Kurt hissed. "He's one of the most important men in fashion in this city, Rachel, and the man has never been anything but kind to me since I started here. Show some respect!" Rachel only rolled her eyes again.

They entered the office of J. Bigner Dickerson and Kurt felt like he could barely breathe. He'd only been in the massive room once before, and it was to drop off a piece of correspondence which had inadvertently found its way into the mail which was delivered to Preston's office. Mr. Dickerson hadn't been in the office at the time, and his secretary had just told him to "put it on his desk" as she tapped away at her laptop, unimpressed by one Kurt Hummel. Just as well, he wasn't impressed with her either. Her split ends were atrocious and she needed her roots done two weeks ago. He'd seen better heads on lettuce.

"Can we at least turn a light on?" Rachel whispered.

"No, use your flashlight on your phone!" Kurt hissed back. "And please hurry. I don't want to be here if security comes by."

They scoured the room, silently moving from wall to wall, looking in, under, around and on top of everything between the four walls. There was no sign of Kurt's work anywhere in the office, and Kurt was depressed. Had Preston taken his portfolio home with him? Had they just gone through it and found everything inside lacking, and just thrown it away? His heart hurt thinking of all the hours of wasted time, now gone from his possession.

"It's not here, Kurt. I'm sorry…I don't know what to say. Short of just coming back here on Monday and demanding that they return your property, I think we're out of luck," she said sadly. "But, maybe that's what you should do, you know? Stand up to them and tell them you want your sketches back!"

Kurt considered it, but found that he'd been so unbelievably humiliated at the meeting that he couldn't even think of facing any of those people again. He'd just have to cut his losses and start over somewhere else. Maybe someday he'd work in fashion again, but for now, he just needed to find a job. Any job. Something to fill the day and pay the rent. With slumped shoulders he nodded to the door.

"Let's just go, can we? My stuff's not here and my stomach is about to eat itself with all the acid rolling around. I'm not cut out for espionage, Rachel. I need food, a good movie and sleep. In that order. Let's go."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. "My offer still stands. If you can't find something, you're welcome to stay with me, ok?"

"Thanks, Rach. I appreciate it. Now let's blow this popsicle stand, shall we?" he asked, giving her a resigned half grin.

They strode out the door, hand in hand, and headed for the elevator. Just as they passed the door to a previously empty office, Kurt heard an unmistakable voice call out just loud enough for him to hear.

"Looking for this?" he heard, then a smack as his portfolio was slapped onto the steel and glass desk.

Kurt spun around, backtracked a few steps and stared into the dark office. He could see someone sitting behind a desk on the far wall, staring out over the city, drink in hand. Blaine.

Kurt squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, blinking madly. He would not cry at how devastatingly handsome the man looked, especially since he could no longer have him. He would not allow his embarrassment to get the better of him. Blaine may not want him, but Kurt knew his own worth. He'd find someone who did.

"I came back for my portfolio and everything in it," Kurt said shortly, eyes a steely blue and posture rigid. "As you well know, they were taken from me without my consent. I want them back. They're mine, Blaine. Oh, I'm sorry. I guess from now on it's _Mister_ Anderson," he nearly spat.

Blaine wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Kurt was obviously not happy with him, and he wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps word hadn't reached the man that Preston had been terminated for stealing Kurt's designs? Perhaps he was irritated with Blaine for not revealing his true self from the start? Maybe he felt awkward knowing he'd kissed Blaine after their date and now Blaine was essentially Kurt's boss. Egad…maybe Kurt was wondering if there were others in the building who'd found themselves "treated to dinner" by Blaine. Surely, he'd figured out that Quinn must have known about Blaine all along, and he was probably angry about that. Not to mention the fact that they hadn't given back his designs to begin with. Oh…yes, well, Kurt did have every reason to be frosty with him, didn't he? But, Blaine, being Blaine, didn't address those issues head on right then.

"You missed the beginning of the party. I had hoped you'd be there," Blaine said as if Kurt hadn't just dropped the temperature in the room 10 degrees just with his voice.

"I don't work here anymore, Blaine. There's no room for me at the party and I'm certain I'm not welcome. I'm surprised you even missed me, what with all your new-found duties and dining companions, taking over for Mr. Dickerson…big stuff you have going on there. And what are you doing down here? Don't they need you to be upstairs in the ballroom with everyone else? They're probably building their shrine to you for ensuring they don't have to work for Preston. Or, is that it? You couldn't fit in the room with his ego taking up most of the viable space?"

"Ouch. Quinnie was right. You do tend to slay with your tongue, don't you?"

"Yes, well, I have to do something with it. You certainly didn't want any part of whatever else it's good at," Kurt quipped, then panicked as it dawned on him what he'd said. A quiet clearing of a throat behind him reminded Kurt that he and Blaine weren't alone.

"Kurt…honey…I'm just going to wait for you out by the elevators, ok?" Rachel said so softly that he barely heard her.

"You must be Rachel?" Blaine asked, peering around Kurt to see the petite brunette backing toward the door. "I've heard a lot about you," Blaine smirked.

"And I've heard a lot about you as well. I can only hope the things Kurt said about me are nicer than the things I've been told about…some of the people he worked with here." And with that, Ms. Rachel Berry turned and flitted away to the lobby near the elevators. Kurt wanted to hug her.

"Birds of a feather, then, I see…" Blaine trailed off, unsure where he stood, but still with the snarky grin in place.

"She's a pain in the ass but insanely loyal, and she'd have my back no matter what. I never have to question whether she's telling me the truth. Clearly, friends like her are few and far between. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to gather my things and go. I'm sure you have a party to get back to."

"It wasn't all one-sided, Kurt," Blaine blurted, heart pounding, but words steady as he let the words roll out of his mouth, knowing he may not have another chance to say any of it. "You must know how I feel about you. I haven't connected with anyone like I did with you in so long, and I'm just really not good at this. I'm out of practice. Please don't think I don't care, Kurt, because I do, but you have to see that I couldn't...it wasn't the time…when you didn't _know_. I couldn't then, but you _know_ me…you know my heart, and what you're thinking isn't true. You're very important to me and I don't want to lose that. And you're so talented! Your designs are amazing and…if you'd just listen to what—"

"_I'm_ important, or my designs are?" Kurt snapped out, eyes renewed anger, Kurt stepped forward again, eyes flashing."Is that it? You're afraid that since the company basically used my designs without my permission that I'll seek some sort of retribution? That I'll want money or…or…whatever! Oh, this is rich…why didn't I see it before? Oh my God," Kurt said dejectedly. He let his eyes fall closed and took a deep breath. Of course, that had to be it. They were only worried about covering their own asses. "Just give me my portfolio, Blaine. I don't have the time or the energy for any of this. On the bright side, I won't be working 12-hour days and most of the weekend for Preston anymore, so maybe I can actually get some sleep and feel human again. And maybe I can find someone to hang out with who wants me…for me…and not just to stave off a lawsuit. If you don't mind?" Kurt said, extending his hand toward the desk and object on it.

"By all means," Blaine said sadly, realizing that Kurt was in no mood to work things out. Blaine scooted the portfolio across his desk toward Kurt. He stood, walked around the desk and leaned his hip on the glass, then crossed his arms across his chest with a sad grin. "Come and get 'em." Kurt wasn't getting off that easy.

Kurt's heart stuttered in his chest. Blaine wore a pair of expertly tailored black pants that screamed at you to notice his trim waist. His shirt was a brilliant red with a hint of a sheen to it, and a black tie with a single, colorfully embroidered band of tiny Christmas lights winding across it, hung loosely around his collar. Kurt's mouth watered.

Without another thought he stepped forward and grabbed the handles of his leather portfolio and pulled it to his chest, his sketches finally back in his possession. When Blaine's hand closed around his wrist he faltered, his heart pounding so hard he was sure Blaine could hear it.

"Kurt, there's a lot to talk about…"

It was then that Kurt heard twittering from the elevator lobby outside of Blaine's office and took a few steps back toward the door.

"I really wish you'd come upstairs with me, Kurt. I think it would be in your best interest—" Blaine began, but Kurt cut him off.

"To just go home and wish this day had never happened? To wish this whole month hadn't happened? I agree. Besides, I have an evening of wallowing with my best friend, and then days of job searching ahead of me, so I don't have time for parties, Blaine," came the curt reply.

"But I don't think you—"

"I'm not sure why you're dragging this out. Is it to make sure you _thoroughly_ humiliate me? You achieved that this afternoon when you announced to Preston that you've been "wooing" the whole damn company…and here I thought I was special," Kurt huffed with a mirthless grin. "And because that wasn't humiliating enough, you let the whole congregation know that I'm the only one who felt anything at all on our dates, and you had no intention of ever taking it further. Thank you for that announcement in front of God and everyone that we're not sleeping together. I hadn't realized just how utterly distasteful I must be, but it all makes perfect sense now, doesn't it? Mission accomplished, Blaine, because I'm not sure I can ever show my face in front of those people again. I'm sorry I misread everything and kissed you. Rest assured I'll never make that mistake again."

"Please don't walk away angry, Kurt. I enjoyed every second I spent in your company. I am not now, nor was I ever, worried about your work more than your feelings. You are an insanely passionate man, whether that passion is for your work or your family and friends. I am drawn to you unlike any other man I've ever known, and I'm asking you to please…please hear me out and let me explain."

"I think I've heard all I care to hear."

With that, Kurt turned toward the door and strode out toward the elevators and Rachel…who was apparently speaking to Quinn.

"Can we just go?" Kurt said tartly as if he'd just tasted something he didn't care for at all.

"Kurt! Oh, I'm so glad you're here, could you—" Quinn began, but Kurt cut her off with a stern glare.

"You! Oh my God, I thought we were friends, Quinn, and _you knew_! You knew who he was from day one and you let me make a complete ass of myself. How could you?" Kurt asked, his voice breaking.

"Kurt…honey…" Rachel began, a hopeful look in her eyes.

"No, Rachel…" Quinn said, eye sad and resigned. "It's not the time," she said, shrugging sadly, then crossing her arms over her chest, resigned, as Kurt grabbed Rachel's hand and hurried toward the elevator when it dinged.

The doors opened and out stepped Mr. Dickerson, eyes bright and merry from partying six floors above them. Kurt brushed past without a word and didn't make eye contact. That was the very last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear it.

"Oh, Kurt!" Mr. Dickerson said, his burly body turning toward the doors when he registered what was going on. Kurt pushed the button for the doors to close and didn't utter a word, but the choked off sob as the doors slid closed nearly broke Blaine's heart.

"Blaine…?" Quinn said quietly. He merely shook his head and took a step back.

"Did you tell him?" Mr. Dickerson asked Blaine.

"No…he wouldn't have heard me anyway. He has it in his head that he knows the who, what, when, where and why of it all. Until he has a day or two to calm down, he won't listen."

The hallway was silent as they all stood there wondering what to say.

"I'm going to head back up, then," Quinn finally said.

"I came down for a cigar, I'll be right up behind you, Quinnie," Mr. Dickerson told them.

"I…" Blaine began, but thought better of it. Shaking his head, he let his shoulders slump a bit. "I'm heading home. I don't feel much like partying tonight."

"You'll miss the recognition ceremony, Blaine," his uncle told him, unwilling to let Blaine go home to wallow.

"The only person whose face I wanted to see light up with that recognition isn't here," Blaine answered, then headed back to his new office to grab his jacket. When he reappeared in the hallway, Quinn was gone and his uncle stood there staring at him with a fond look.

"You don't want to hear it, but you're so much like him, Blaine."

"I'm not, really," Blaine replied, unsure whether or not he'd just been insulted or not.

"He's my brother-in-law, and I know him better than just about anyone after everything we've been through, don't you think? You are like him in that you know what you want and you won't give up until you have it. That's how he ended up with your mom," he laughed, "just wouldn't take no for an answer until she finally gave in and went out with him. And here we are, all these years later, and they're happy as can be. Who would have thought it? Although, with your father, his second love was business and, unfortunately, he tried to insist that you follow him on that route. I, for one, am sincerely glad your passions lay elsewhere because it's working out very well for _me_…but then, some would say I'm a selfish old bastard like that," he said with a grin. Blaine let his eyes fall closed and shook his head, grinning right back. "I can see that Kurt is important to you, Blaine. I've known the boy for almost four years now, and never once has he given me reason to believe he is not a kind, generous, talented young man. I can see that you like him a great deal."

"I'm pretty sure I fell in love with him the minute I laid eyes on him, actually," Blaine grinned, but it was tinged with sadness.

"Well, for what it's worth, I wholly approve of your choice, and I think you should go after him tonight, but if you think he needs time, then I'll defer to you on it. But don't give him too much time or he may use it to figuratively hang himself. Don't let him get away, boy…from you or from us. Go home, get some sleep, then concentrate on getting what it is that makes you whole. Merry Christmas, Blaine Devon. I'll see you back here after the holidays," he said, handing Blaine an envelope.

"What's this?" Blaine asked, perplexed.

"I think you'll agree with me that what's inside is well deserved. I'm going to let you decide when the time is right, though. You'll know. Do it right, Blaine." With that, Uncle J walked to the elevators and winked at Blaine as he stepped inside and pushed the button for the 20th floor. "Be well, and Merry Christmas. Tell your mother I'll be in touch and that I love her," he said as the doors closed.

Blaine let out a long sigh, unsure what to do. He was tired…so, so tired. He had no idea how hard elves worked! For weeks he'd been getting to know everyone in the office on multiple floors, making lists, keeping track of who was where and what their likes and dislikes were, buying goodies, wrapping, bagging and stuffing said goodies, as well as delivering them to everyone…while also trying to spend time with each employee…often eating two or three "lunches" per day with different coworkers, and often dinner out as well, in order to touch base with everyone personally…everyone but Preston. He couldn't bring himself to bother, and his attempt to speak with the man were rudely rebuffed. No, he had no need to spend any time with Preston. He wasn't sure, but he figured that his uncle was going to rid them of the so-called 'designer' as soon as possible. Uncle J had no tolerance for liars, and Preston had been trying, and succeeding, to some degree, to pull the wool over everyone's eyes for months. What a treat he'd turned out to be.

Blaine couldn't seem to get his mind off of Kurt, though, and that heartbreaking sob that he'd heard when Kurt left with Rachel. Surely, he thought the worst of Blaine and that broke Blaine's heart even further. He truly enjoyed spending time with Kurt, and who wouldn't? He was stunningly handsome, smart, talented, kind and sexy as hell. Blaine wanted him in more ways than one, and he'd had a very hard time walking away from Kurt both times they'd had dinner together, as well as any time they'd spent any time at all with one another over the past month. Yes, he was going to do whatever was necessary to get Kurt back in his arms…for real this time, because what they'd shared before wasn't even close to enough. He had thought, though, that until Kurt knew who he really was, it was absolutely unfair to allow their relationship to get too far. As angry as Kurt was now, Blaine was sure he'd be ten times as angry if they had gone any further than the short kiss they'd shared…especially if the envelope contained what he thought it did. And there was only one way to find out.

* * *

"I know, I know…and I understand why you couldn't tell me. But it's a moot point now, isn't it? I know who he really is, he's essentially everyone's new boss and I don't even have a job there anymore, so…it really doesn't matter, does it?"

"Kurt…please just hear him out?" Quinn asked, sorrow tinging her voice. She'd talked to her cousin Blaine several times a day over the past few days and he was just so sad without Kurt.

"He lied to me, Quinn. You can't start a relationship with lies."

"He wasn't in a relationship with you when it all began. And by the time he was, it was too late to just blurt it all out. He was sworn to secrecy, Kurt, by Uncle D, and the plan was—"

"The plan was not for me to have my heart broken, but here we are, aren't we?" Kurt asked, surprisingly without snark.

"If you just hear him out, maybe?" Quinn quietly almost begged. "He miserable, Kurt."

"Well, that makes two of us, doesn't it? Maybe…later. I don't have time for all that right now. I'm actually at the airport picking up Dad and Carol. But I do miss him, and…I dunno…maybe I could listen to what he has to say. We'll see."

"He really likes you, Kurt. In fact…I think it might be a little more than like, but what do I know. And if I'm not mistaken, I think you might like him, too?"

"Quinn…"

"Kurt…?"

"I do, ok? I like him a lot. I've had a couple of days to think about it and…and maybe I was too harsh. Maybe we can talk and try to see how things go. I miss him," Kurt sighed.

"Please, Kurt…I know it would mean the world to him. He's pretty fond of you, ya know?" she grinned on the other end of the phone. "And so am I. Thank you for calling me back. Finally."

"I wasn't in a good place there for a few days. I needed to get used to being unemployed and I had a lot on my plate at home…cleaning, shopping, sleeping, wallowing. You know how it is," Kurt snarked. Good, she thought. His snarkiness is back, so he's back to his old self.

"About the job situation—"

"Nope…not talking about it yet. Let me get through Christmas and then I'll deal with that. I have enough saved to live on my own for a month, maybe six weeks, and then I'll shack up with Rachel if need be. Lord, that'll be a nightmare AGAIN, but…we'll see."

"Don't start packing yet, Kurt. Just…please talk to Blaine?"

"I will. I promise I will. Soon, just…I will, ok?" he finished quietly.

"What are your plans while your dad and Carol are in town?"

"We're going to drop their stuff off at the hotel—"

"They're not staying with you?" Quinn asked, surprised.

"No, not this time. Carol won some _thing_ at work back in the summer and one of the prizes she was able to pick was a week in a swanky hotel in the city, so she grabbed that, knowing they'd eventually use it. They're being pampered," Kurt chuckled, "…hot stone massages, mani / pedis, facials, mud baths, etc. I am just dying to hear how my dad handles this!" Kurt crowed.

"Well, that's what they're doing when they're not with you, though," Quinn said, still wondering about Kurt's plans.

"Oh, well, we're going ice skating today, having Christmas Eve dinner tonight, they'll head over tomorrow after brunch and we'll open gifts, I guess, then just hang out, make cookies, watch movies…relax. It'll be nice to relax for a change. I haven't had the time to do that for a long while, what with doing my work _and_ Preston's for months."

"I'm glad you'll be with your family, Kurt. I think it'll be a good thing."

"And what are your plans?"

"Just hanging around my apartment with a couple friends who will be in town alone as well. I went home last weekend, so…"

"Rachel's coming for dinner and there's plenty. Please join us? My family will be so glad to see you again."

"Maybe…we'll see. I may stop over. Thank you for the invitation, Kurt."

"Oh! I see my dad, I'm gonna run, ok? Stop over tonight or tomorrow, ok? No excuses! Love you!" Kurt said, then hurriedly disconnected the call and quickly made his way into Burt's arms.

* * *

"I think it's a good thing we can have as many massages as we want on this trip," Burt grumbled, limping away from the ice rink. "Ya think that hot tub in the room works?"

"Oh for goodness sake, Burt, I'm sure it does," Carol laughed. "Next time you'll take it easy and not try to race the kids around the ice!"

"I can't believe you slid that far when you fell," Kurt giggled.

"Laugh it up, kid," Burt grinned, throwing his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Now carry your ol' man to the train, will ya?" he joked.

"I think we should just grab a taxi. Getting you all the way to the train might be a bit much. If you really did hurt that ankle I don't want to make it worse. But before we go, a selfie with the three of us in front of the tree, please? Kurt grinned. They all squeezed into the frame and smiled widely with the huge, beautifully decorated tree behind them. Kurt posted it to his social media and then returned their skates to the rental booth.

Kurt hailed a cab and they all piled in, then headed for Kurt's apartment. The ride wasn't that far, but because of the traffic it took longer than it normally would without the holiday travelers. Kurt sat in the middle so that Burt and Carol could gawk at all the lights and decorations as they passed them in storefronts or parks as the car moved slowly through the streets. New York City was a thing of beauty at Christmastime. Stores decorated their windows with twinkling lights, shiny baubles and glittering decorations on every street and city block. The tree at Rockefeller Center was beautifully lit and Carol was in awe of its size and magnificence. Even Burt mumbled here and there about the grandeur of the holiday décor. Kurt did everything in his power to keep up appearances and smile through their "ooohs and ahhhs!" as they made their way through the city. Inside though…his heart hurt. He missed Blaine.

"Do you need help up the stairs?" Kurt asked.

"Nah, I'm ok I think. Might put some ice on it for a minute or two, though," Burt answered. When they reached the apartment, he flopped down on Kurt's sofa and propped said ankle up on the coffee table.

"I'll grab you an ice pack then."

They busied themselves watching Christmas favorites on tv. Burt found It's A Wonderful Life and kept the volume low as they watched and talked at the same time. Carol and Kurt were preparing dinner, a honey glazed ham and more side dishes to accompany it than any four people would ever eat, when Kurt's phone rang.

"Are you on your way?" he said, in lieu of a greeting.

"I am! Do you need me to pick up any last-minute items?" Rachel asked.

"No, I don't think so. There's an awful lot of food here already, so I hope you're hungry!"

"Starved!" Rachel answered, laughing, "but not enough to eat ham," she teased.

"There's plenty for you to choose from, just get here!"

"Hi Rach!" Carol said from the other side of the kitchen.

"Hi Carol! Oh, I can't wait to see you!" Rachel exclaimed.

"I'll tell her, since…you know…you're on the phone with me and she can't hear you," Kurt groused, rolling his eyes.

"See you soon, grumpy!" Rachel said, then disconnected. Minutes later she threw the door open and hugged everyone for all she was worth, slipping a few gifts under Kurt's little tree.

Dinner was just about ready when Kurt's buzzer went off at the door. Burt moved to haul himself up to get the door when Kurt shooed him back down on the sofa.

"Oh, Quinn said she might stop over!" Kurt said, then dashed to the door. "Yes?" he asked the little box on the wall.

"It's me, Kurt. Do you still have an extra chair?" Quinn asked.

"Of course! Come on up!"

Kurt buzzed her in, then opened the door a crack and went back to grab the chair from his dressing table to slide next to his own chair at the table. Rachel had the same idea and grabbed the chair from his desk in the living room. Just as she scooted the chair up, Quinn peeked her head in the door.

"Hello! Merry Christmas!" she called, then walked in with two bottles of wine and a poinsettia in her arms. "Red and white…I wasn't sure which you'd prefer," she grinned.

"Oh my gosh, you didn't have to bring all this!" Kurt laughed.

"Actually…_I_ didn't…" she said, then bit her lip and hugged him tightly.

"What do you mea—" he began, but stopped abruptly when he saw the dark, glossy curls peek around the door. His heart pounded in his chest and he took in a deep breath.

"Hi, Kurt," Blaine said, unsure of his welcome.

"H-hi," Kurt stuttered out. Burt raised an eye from the sofa and Quinn swooped in to steal the attention from the boys at the door.

"Mr. Hummel, you're looking well!" she said brightly, then leaned in for a hug from Burt, then Carol as well. She plopped down on the sofa with them and chattered brightly, well aware of the stiff conversation at the door and wanting to detract from it if possible.

"I understand if you don't want to see me…but I needed to drop this off, so Quinn said I could tag along," Blaine said quietly.

"Of course…you're um…you're welcome to stay for dinner if…you know…if you don't have other plans…or anything," Kurt mumbled shyly. This was so unlike their dates where conversation flowed freely and easily. He hated it and wanted that back, elves and jobs be damned. "What, exactly, are you dropping off?" Kurt asked.

"Oh! Um…the other night…my uncle gave this to me and asked me to pass it along. But…I mean, I could just do that and be done with it, but I wanted to…needed to…there was more, so I…um….I'm not doing this very well," Blaine said, watching over Kurt's shoulder warily, "and I think it's because your dad is staring holes through my forehead," Blaine whispered, grimacing.

"Oh my God," Kurt huffed, then turned to find Burt blatantly staring at the two of them. "Dad!" he hissed, making Burt shrug.

"Who's your friend? Does he get to come in or…?" Burt asked. The room was silent as they waited for an answer.

"Dad! Stop…geez…"

"Maybe I should just…go. Please read the note on top and then the one behind it, ok?" Blaine said, then turned to go.

"No…please don't go. Can we just…come in, Blaine. Come in and…Gawd, you're such a child!" Kurt huffed at his dad again as he turned to find Burt still staring. Burt grinned, knowing he was embarrassing Kurt and not minding it at all.

"Come in, please," Kurt said again, as he closed the front door, then dragged Blaine down a very short hall to his bedroom. He let the door click closed and sat on the edge of his bed, opened the envelope and then motioned for Blaine to sit beside him.

"I think I'll stand. You may usher me out after you um…yeah," he said uncomfortably, motioning to the letter with a grimace.

With a long look at the man standing at his bedroom door, Kurt pulled two sheets of paper out and began reading.

_Dear Kurt, _

_I'm not sure how or when you'll get this, but please know that every word herein is true, first and foremost. _

_I miss you. I miss you so much it's making me a little crazy._ _You very quickly became a big part of my life and I truly enjoyed spending time with you. Our lunches and dinners were the highlight of my time in New York, and I can honestly say that I have never enjoyed just talking with someone so much in my life. Ever. Which is why I hate that you're angry with me, but at the same time, I completely understand why you're upset. I'm sure it seems that I lied to you. I'm sure it seems as if I intentionally misled you. That was not my intention at all, and I hope you can see that, now that some time has passed, and you've had a few days to think about it. _

_When my uncle asked me to come on board with the company, I was shocked. He had traveled to L.A. to visit with us over the summer. My parents found out about the baby on the way, and then they'd flown out to see Cooper and his wife…and me, of course…and Uncle J showed up unannounced, as he does, and hung out for a week or so. After dinner one night the conversation moved toward work, as it tends to do with my dad and Uncle J in the same room. They were college roommates and that's how my dad met my mom. He said he saw a photo of her on Uncle J's desk the day he moved into their dorm and he was a goner. Dad and Uncle J had big plans to go into business together, but that didn't pan out. Dad was drawn to corporate real estate, and Uncle J has always had a flair for design. The two just didn't line up, obviously. Dad wanted me to go into the family business, but it wasn't my thing, despite five years of business school. We've never really seen eye to eye, I guess. But I digress. _

_Uncle J has asked me several times to consider moving to the city to work with him, and with the baby coming and me having to move anyway, it seemed that maybe the time was right. For the last six months he's been grooming me to come out here and work with his team. All through college I co-oped in the design field, unbeknownst to my mom and dad who thought I was simply working odd jobs to get by. I was…I did work at those places…in the evenings, when I wasn't at the design house. I found myself wanting to spend all my time there, learn more, know everything there was to know about fashion and the business itself. So, I didn't lie to you about that, Kurt. I would never intentionally lie to you, I promise. But this…design and fashion…this is my real passion, and I can't wait to work with all the talented people at Verve. _

_More than anything, though, Kurt, I want to make things right with you. I know you probably feel deceived, but that was not my intention…just the opposite, actually. I wanted to tell you immediately, but Uncle J forbid it. He wanted me to come in as a complete unknown. Obviously, Quinn knew who I was, and I thought she'd give it away that very first morning in the lobby. Even she was unaware of the plan until I caught up with her later that day. Uncle J was afraid that people would balk at my taking over, mostly because of my age, so he wanted them to get to know and like me before the announcement was made. I'm sure Uncle J assumed that everyone on staff would think that I couldn't possibly know what I was doing yet. Well, maybe they're right, but I'm going to give it one hell of a try. Uncle J's not going anywhere just yet. He's going to stick around another few months to make sure I know the ropes. I'm grateful. The last thing I want to do is fall flat on my face. _

_Having you by my side, Kurt…that would make all the difference. I can't begin to explain how much I enjoy your company, how much I felt completely connected to you when we were together, and how much I wanted to do more than just kiss you goodnight after our dates. I couldn't, though. I couldn't allow things to go that route until I could come clean…until you knew who I really was. I couldn't deceive you that way, take those intimate things from you, and expect you not to be really angry. Please know that a peck on the hand and then walking away from you at your door was one of the toughest things I've ever done. I wanted to push you against the wall and ravage you, claim your mouth and listen to every beautiful, soft moan that left your body for hours on end. I wanted that. I feel as if you wanted that, too. But the time wasn't right. Now, we can have that if you'll give me another chance, now that I can be upfront and honest with you about who I am. Will you, Kurt? Please? Because, let's face it, I pretty much fell in love at first sight that morning in Verve's lobby…right there in front of God, Nicole and everyone…my heart left me and took up residence with you. I miss you, Kurt. Please tell me I didn't irrevocably screw up everything we started? _

_With all my love, _

_Blaine_

Kurt had read the whole letter without looking up. He was still staring at the words, dumbfounded with most of it, but mostly because Blaine said he fell in love with him. Love. And if Kurt was being totally honest, he was head over heels in love with Blaine as well. Yes, his ego had been bruised when Preston fired him, and yes, he was shocked as hell when Blaine blurted out that he hadn't slept with Kurt in front of the whole room…but clearly there was a good reason for it. With a deep breath, he looked up and met eyes with Blaine.

"Before you…" Blaine began, then coughed once and started again. "Before you go on to the next page, please tell me how you're feeling," he said.

Kurt sat in silence for another minute before speaking.

"I've missed you, too, Blaine…more than I can say. I was angry, yes, but I think I've moved past it. I get it, I know why you didn't tell me, and even though I think it's a little crazy, I understand."

"Can we…will you go out with me again? Do you think we could…do that? Be us…again? I really enjoyed those four weeks of 'us' before you wanted to strangle me or punch me in the face," Blaine asked, a grin ready to break out from his face.

"I think we can talk about that," Kurt smiled, shaking his head at Blaine.

"Ok, so…um…that being said, no take-backs. Read the other page?"

Kurt flipped the letter to the back and began reading again. Blaine watched as his eyes went wide.

_Dear Kurt Hummel, _

_Thank you for submitting your sketches for approval to our design team. As you know, Verve is a Fortune 500 company, and as such, we strive to employ the best of the best. We are aware that you have been with the company for just under four years now, and have occupied several positions with us, most recently, assistant to our designer, Preston Faulkner. As Mr. Faulkner is no longer with the company, for reasons which you are well aware, we are in need of a design staff member to take his place. _

_Mr. Hummel, as a general rule, we ask that our design staff work their way up the ladder to senior design status. You have not yet been with the company for a sufficient number of years in which to hit each rung on said ladder. However, having gone over your design work with a fine-tooth comb, it is clear that you have a vision, and you are quite adept at putting that vision on paper, showing your undeniable talent for bringing a sketch to life. _

_You have previously proven your dedication to the company while working nights as well as weekends, a fact which has been corroborated by several of our staff. It is also my understanding that you have done so without proper compensation, both for your extended work hours and also for the designs which were taken from you and claimed by Mr. Faulkner. You have shown great restraint in allowing Mr. Faulkner to present your work as his own, all the while continuing to produce amazing designs for Verve, despite someone else taking the credit for said work. _

_In summary, Mr. Hummel, it is by unanimous decision by the current senior staff members that we wish to offer you a spot on our design team. If you accept this offer, you will work closely with Maribelle Hunt and Travis Wakefield as you learn how to navigate the design team and its often very strong personalities. I have every faith in you, Mr. Hummel, and I sincerely hope you will take this offer to heart and join us. We are already impressed by your work. _

_I have been in touch with Human Resources. Your days off this week will be covered by additional vacation days earned as you covered for Preston during his…absences. Should you decide to accept this position, I will personally discuss wages, benefits and compensation with you at your convenience. I hope to hear from you soon. _

_Sincerely, _

_J. Bigner Dickerson_

Kurt finished reading, eyes wide, mouth open, and looked to Blaine with confusion.

"But I…I didn't submit anything!? What is he talking about?" Kurt asked, totally confused. Blaine merely bit his lip and refused to make eye contact, looking around the room to avoid Kurt's gaze. "Unless…oh, Blaine, what did you do?!" Kurt asked, then jumped up to rummage through his closet. He grabbed his portfolio, yanked it out and laid it on the bed, unzipping the sides quickly to find…nothing. It was completely empty. He hadn't even looked inside after leaving the office with Rachel three nights ago.

"Please don't be angry…" Blaine said quietly. "You're just so damn talented and I knew there was no way you'd ever submit them on your own, so I…I did it for you. Because you deserve it, Kurt. You worked your ass off and Preston took all the credit for every outstanding idea you had. All along, though…those were your designs, and they all needed to know that, so I told Uncle J before the meeting. I'd say I'm sorry, Kurt, but I'm not. Please consider it. Please think about taking the job."

"Blaine, thank you, but I—"

"I didn't vote," Blaine said simply.

"What?"

"I declined to vote. I didn't think, considering, that it was fair for me to vote on the issue. . Please don't say no just because of me. If you don't want to…" Blaine began, but he was a little choked up, unable to speak. With a deep breath, he began again. "If you don't want to date me because you work with me, or…vice versa…if you don't want to work with me because you want to date me, I'll try to handle that. In fact, if dating someone you work with is a problem, then please take the job and I'll step down. You deserve this, Kurt. You really do, and I don't want to stand in the way of that," Blaine said with every emotion on his sleeve.

"You're awfully sure of yourself, Anderson. What if I still want the job but I don't want to date a co-worker?" Kurt asked, his expression blank.

"Oh," Blaine said, simply, shocked. He had hoped that Kurt would allow them another chance, but…but maybe he didn't want that. Kurt just stared at him with a look that said "well?" Blaine wasn't sure how to answer that one.

"You'd step down if I asked you to?"

"I…if it meant we could be together again, then yes."

"And if I don't want to date someone I see every day at work?"

"Then I…I'll hide? So you won't see me?" Blaine teased, still unsure where he stood. Kurt could barely keep a straight face.

"I don't even know what to do with you," Kurt finally said, after staring right at Blaine in silence for over a minute.

"I can think of a couple things right off the top of my head, but give me time and I'm sure I can compile a helluva list," Blaine said, still unsure if he was in the doghouse. Either way, he wanted Kurt to know that he was in…if Kurt wanted a relationship, Blaine was so in.

"A couple things, huh?"

"A couple…"

"Do any of those 'things' consist of you, me and a wall?" Kurt asked, still tentative about 'them'.

"Oh, God, I hope so. I truly and sincerely hope so, Kurt. Please say yes," Blaine nearly begged.

Kurt merely stood from the bed and walked toward Blaine, who took a step back until he hit the wall behind him. Kurt advanced on him slowly, coming to a stop with his feet between Blaine's and their noses nearly touching.

"Show me?" Kurt all but purred, his heart pounding in his chest.

The whimper that left Blaine's mouth was sinfully sexy, and when his hands cupped Kurt's jaw, Kurt saw stars. Every time they touched it was as if he'd swallowed Pop Rocks and they spread throughout his whole body at once. Blaine's lips brushed his and Kurt hummed in appreciation, more than ready for more.

"Not nearly enough, Anderson," Kurt quipped, then leaned in to nip at Blaine's bottom lip.

"Oh God…" Blaine breathed out, eyelids falling closed as his breath picked up. "I have wanted you every single day, every minute, every hour, since the day I first saw you in the lobby. I have dreamed of tasting you, touching you, holding you every night. I have—"

"…talked long enough. Please just do it, Blaine," Kurt teased.

Blaine didn't need to be asked twice. He surged forward, taking Kurt in a kiss he felt from his hair follicles to his toes and everywhere in between. He made love to Kurt's mouth as if he needed to do that to stay alive, as if his very next breath may never come if he stopped.

Kurt's hands in his hair made him groan and when Kurt finally gave in and leaned against his body, Blaine all but whimpered.

"I'm so in love with you," Blaine breathed out as he tentatively pulled away, resting his forehead against Kurt's. "I can't be without you, Kurt. It's been an absolutely miserable few days without you and I'm begging you to give us a shot so that I can spend every available minute learning all there is to know about Kurt Hummel."

"Worst three days ever," Kurt replied, his smile belying the hurt he'd felt over those few days. He'd done a lot of thinking, though, and it all made sense. He couldn't blame Blaine for how things happened.

"Say yes…work with me? Come back?"

"To you or to Verve?"

"Both…please?"

"Convince me," Kurt grinned, leaning in to capture Blaine's mouth once again.

"So, all this food is either going to be burnt or ice cold!" Kurt heard from the other side of the closed door. Burt was not a patient man when it came to food, and Kurt should have known better than to hold up the meal. He pulled back from Blaine and chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

"Stay for dinner?"

"I…" Blaine began, but paused to consider his options. To spend time with Kurt, even with his eagle-eyed father or not? "Yes. Ok. As long as your dad doesn't skin me alive?"

"I think you'll be ok. There are witnesses," Kurt winked, then pulled the door open with one hand and led Blaine to the table with the other.

* * *

"He likes you," Kurt grinned as he closed the door behind Burt and Carol later on Christmas Eve. They had eaten dinner, then dessert. Rachel had dragged out some board games and old Christmas albums, which had belonged to Kurt's mom, and they'd all sat around the table laughing and getting to know one another for hours. Burt duly interrogated Blaine, but softened once he found out that Blaine was also an Ohio State Buckeyes fan. After that the conversation turned to cars, and much to Burt's delight, Blaine wasn't a slacker in that department either. What won him over the most, though, was the way Blaine looked at Kurt when he didn't realize anyone else was looking.

"You can't know that for sure," Blaine replied, still holding Kurt's hand as they walked back toward the sofa.

"I can and I do. He told me so as he hugged me goodbye tonight. He said, and I quote: 'I like him. He has a good head on his shoulders, he's bright and charming, and he looks at you as if you're the only one in the room. A man doesn't look at just anyone that way. Believe me, I know.' And Carole likes you as well," Kurt grinned shyly.

"He's not wrong. You're the only man I see, the only one I want by my side. It hasn't escaped my notice that you haven't given me a straight answer, Kurt. But I won't push you. Think about it. Decide if it's what you want. I sincerely hope you come back to Verve, though."

"You know what I hope?" Kurt asked, heart in his throat.

"Mmm?" Blaine hummed, leaning into Kurt as they sat back down on the sofa.

"I hope you'll stay tonight? I don't expect anything of you…anything from you, Blaine, but…I'm not ready to say goodbye yet, although I'm really, very tired," Kurt chuckled.

"Are you sure? I can come back tomorrow if you want, Kurt."

"Please stay?" Kurt asked, his heart in his eyes.

"I would love to."

Waking up on Christmas morning with strong, warm arms wrapped around him was a thing that Kurt decided he needed in his life. He smiled to himself, eyes still closed, then snuggled back into Blaine's chest with a contented sigh. He'd forgotten to pull the curtains, so the dull, morning light filtered in through the sheers he'd hung at the tall windows. This…this was pure heaven and bliss.

They'd talked well into the night while just lying in bed, holding hands, nothing more than a few kisses exchanged as they did so. There was no pressure to do more from either of them, although both knew they eventually wanted much more. Kurt could honestly say he had never connected with anyone, on any level, the way he connected with Blaine. The man was smart, witty, interesting and fun, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. Kurt wanted, more than anything, to be able to call Blaine his and wake up with Blaine wrapped around him more often. But there were so many things to consider, and he didn't want to make a snap decision and regret it later.

After Blaine had drifted off, still holding hands, Kurt had given the letters a lot of thought. It would be odd dating someone he worked with. He'd done it before and it hadn't worked out. But that guy wasn't Blaine, and he hadn't felt even a smidgeon of the affection and draw toward that guy like he did with Blaine…and it had been years ago. He was young, inexperienced in the ways of dating, and brand new in the city. He'd grown quite a bit since then, and he knew he could remain professional if he said yes and ended up designing for Verve with Blaine as his boss and his boyfriend. No, he would not allow office politics to determine his decision. With a deep sigh, he considered how things could be…seeing Blaine at work every day would be great…but it could also be not so great. Relationships were hard, and everyone needed space sometimes. If he worked with Blaine, would they be in each other's space too often? And despite Blaine's assurances, Kurt worried that his co-workers would titter that he only got the job because of Blaine…because he was the boss' new fling.

With a sigh, Kurt rolled over and nuzzled his face in Blaine's neck. He didn't have to be awake for an hour or so and he wasn't going to miss the chance to snuggle Blaine…because who knew when he'd get the chance again?

"I don't want to intrude on your day, Kurt. Your family and friends graciously allowed me to crash your Christmas Eve. I don't want to be 'that guy' and crash your Christmas Day as well…although I really do appreciate the offer."

"Do you have a better offer?" Kurt teased.

"No, not a better offer, just…I don't want to overwhelm and push. I want to give you time to think about what you want to do. Be with your family today. Have fun, open gifts, eat good food and do what you guys do. I'm going to hang out with Quinn, call my parents, and check on Cooper and Elise—"

"Still no baby?"

"Still no baby. She's going nuts," Blaine grinned.

"I can imagine she is. It can't be comfortable at this late date," Kurt commiserated. "Well, the offer stands. You're welcome here, but I know you have other things going on. Call me later or…whatever, ok?"

"I can do that," Blaine grinned, then leaned in to peck Kurt on the lips, which then led to eight more minutes in Kurt's doorway hoping that nobody decided to stick their head out the door or walk by. They would have gotten an eyeful for sure.

Burt and Carol arrived around noon, as promised, and the three of them made brunch, opened gifts and settled in to catch up. The previous night had been fun, but they hadn't had two minutes to just talk since they'd stepped off the plane.

"So, tell me about Blaine. I know you met him at work, but I feel like there's a story here," Burt said, wording his request carefully.

With a sigh, Kurt rolled his eyes, settled in and recounted the whole story. He started with Preston and how he'd been pilfering Kurt's designs, which angered Burt and Carol greatly, obviously, and then told about his friendship with the new shelf elf during the holidays. He was straightforward with all of it, never leaving anything out, because if there was an opinion he wanted and trusted more than any other, it was that of Burt Hummel. Carol came in a close second.

"I just can't believe you let that guy take your designs, Kurt. That's not like you," Burt argued. Kurt took a deep breath and tested his words in his head before allowing them to flow out.

"I wanted to know if they were any good. I wanted the validation that, even if someone else presented them, what I was doing was good. Turns out, it was pretty good, I guess – good enough that they ran with it and I've passed people on the street wearing something I created," Kurt grinned, but with his eyes on his own feet. "Maybe I went about it the wrong way but, in the end, it got me where I wanted to be. Now I just have to decide if…if I can actually do it."

"What do you mean 'if'? This is what you want, what you've worked for, what you've always dreamed of doing, Kurt. Why wouldn't you take this opportunity?" Carol asked, eyes wide and curious.

"I feel like…" Kurt paused, then pulled his legs up under him on the sofa and grabbed a throw pillow to hug. "I feel like I can't have both. Maybe it's not smart to date at the office. I tried that once, remember?"

"Josh, yes…we remember," Burt huffed, recalling tearful phone calls and ultimately the break up that happened later.

"Working with Blaine would be great…if he wasn't going to be my boss. And it's really not even him being my boss that worries me, truthfully, it's…." he trailed of, knowing that when he finished the sentence, that Burt would interject. "It's knowing that the other designers will be thinking that I only got the job because of Blaine," he said.

"Since when have you ever given a rat's butt what everyone else thought?" Burt asked, and Kurt grinned, shaking his head. Burt was so predictable.

"I know, but…this is real, Dad. This is the big time, and I don't want that hanging over us. So I'm not sure there can be an 'us' right now. I won't have Blaine step down, even though he's offered to do so, and I won't pass up this opportunity. I think maybe…we just need to…not…for a while," Kurt finished sadly.

"Do you really think that's the answer?" Carol asked him, reaching for his hand.

"I don't really know the answer, but I do know I can't go in to work every day thinking everyone is whispering behind my back. I don't ever allow others to sway what I know is right, but…I'm just not sure the timing is right on this. I adore Blaine, and when he's not around I miss him like crazy. I think we really have great chemistry and he's such an amazing person—"

"But?" Burt interjected, looking down his nose if he thought Kurt had lost his mind. He really did like Blaine, even if they'd only briefly spent time together. The boy obviously had a good head on his shoulders, and he clearly cared for Kurt.

"But maybe I need to make my mark first in the business and then give us a chance when I've proven I can stand on my own two feet? Maybe it's not even that, because they liked my stuff before they knew it was my stuff. Maybe I just don't want to be 'the guy who's dating the boss' as soon as I'm given a new position. It feels weird," he finished lamely. "But I also don't want to lose or hurt Blaine…"

"I won't tell you what to do, Kurt, but I _will_ warn you that not grabbing what's in front of you while it's there often leads to it not being there when you reach for it later. But you do what you think is right. We'll stand behind you," Burt finished, slinging an arm around Kurt, who had stood to pace the small sitting area. "You have a lot to think about, son. Don't take any of it lightly."

* * *

The week between Christmas and New Year's Day was an odd one, as it tended to be when the holiday fell midweek. Kurt contacted Mr. Dickerson as soon as he'd made a decision, and met with him later that afternoon. He didn't feel he'd earned the luxury of taking any more days off, since he'd already missed the days before Christmas when he thought he'd been fired. So, the day after Christmas, he sat in the office, discussing his new job and wishing he felt better about taking it.

He had thought long and hard about working at Verve…and also about working at Verve with Blaine. In the end, he wasn't sure he could go back to work already dating the boss. He discussed it to death and right into rigor mortis with Burt, Carol, Rachel and even Quinn…and then Blaine. Blaine, whose voice had gone soft and sad as soon as the words left Kurt's mouth. Blaine, who said he understood and that he'd still be there if Kurt needed him. Blaine, who passed him in the hallway the next day and looked as if someone had run over his dog. Kurt felt like the worst kind of person. He hated being the reason anyone was uncomfortable, felt bad or radiated sadness…and Blaine was obviously all of those things.

Kurt had to retreat to his office (gasp, HIS office!) and close the door for a few minutes in order to get his pounding heart under control. Blaine was hurting and Kurt was the reason. If he thought the three days before Christmas without Blaine had been awful, the three days since had been a nightmare. Seeing Blaine at work, and knowing how unbelievably sad he was, didn't sit well with Kurt at all, and it was obvious that people noticed.

Gone was the silly, fun, little elf. In his place was a solemn, somber Mr. Anderson who offered a forced smile when he was addressed and stayed in his office a lot. Kurt knew this arrangement was never going to work. Either he'd have to leave or Blaine would, and considering that Blaine's uncle owned the company, he wasn't going anywhere. Kurt knew he'd have to talk to Mr. Dickerson and let him know that he'd be leaving.

He couldn't bear to see Blaine in such a state every day. It was torturous seeing him in the office, dark circles beneath his eyes and his forced smile the only thing on offer. Blaine was hurting and Kurt was as well. A lot. He wanted to be with Blaine, and if that meant giving up every fashion and design related dream he'd ever had…well, then it did. And with that decision, his heart sunk and he knew exactly how Blaine had been feeling all week. Having to give up something that you loved was painful, and his heart hurt over his decision. But at least Kurt was able to say he'd made his own decision to give up what he loved. Blaine was forced to do so, and Kurt hated himself for that. He had the means to rectify the situation and he needed to do so as soon as possible.

"Honey, you can't keep doing this…" Quinn said, finding Kurt tucked into the far corner of their break room.

"Eating lunch?" Kurt asked, trying for 'aloof', but well aware of what she was talking about.

"Hiding from him…and denying what you really want."

"I'm not denying it. I'm embracing it. In fact, as soon as I'm finished here, I'm going to go talk to Mr. Dickerson and let him know I'm…I'm going to be leaving," Kurt said quietly.

"WHAT? No you are not, Kurt Hummel. You can't just…you can't leave when things get rough! I know you better than that, and this is your dream job. You're not running away from it before it ever begins!"

"I'm not running away. I'm doing what I need to do to be with Blaine. I can't see him like this every day knowing I'm the reason he's so miserable…and yet, I'm placing myself in his face daily when I'm here. I want to be with him, Quinn, and if that means I go somewhere else so that we can be together, then that's what it means," he finished sadly. "I want to design here…but I want him more. He's not happy, and that's my fault."

"Why can't you just work here and date him anyway?" Quinn asked, as if the idea was the most obvious choice.

"They'd never respect me," Kurt answered truthfully, but sadly.

"Yes, well, we'll see. Don't go making any rash decisions yet, ok? Let me…" she paused, thinking, "let me talk to Uncle J. We'll figure out something other than you leaving, ok?"

Kurt merely shook his head and finished his lunch in silence.

In the end it didn't matter. Mr. Dickerson had taken off December 29th, 30th and 31st, and everyone was off on January 1st for New Year's Day. He'd even thought of just going to Blaine with it, but he was nowhere to be found either. Kurt would have to wait until Mr. Dickerson came back to have their meeting, but he sent the man an email outlining his plan and requesting his time first thing at the beginning of the year. It was out there now. There was no backing out.

With a heavy heart, he dressed carefully to attend Quinn's New Year's Eve party with Rachel and left his apartment around 8:00 pm. The streets were packed with party goers, people still trying to get anywhere near Times Square to see the ball drop, and others just moving from bar to bar until the countdown. Kurt was in no mood at all to party, but he'd already told Quinn he'd be there, so he figured he'd make an appearance and then head home as soon as possible.

"You made it!" Quinn yelled above the noise as she flung the door open. "Come on in!"

Kurt and Rachel filed in and Quinn took their coats. Kurt thought he was being stealthy, but Quinn caught him anyway.

"He's not here, Kurt. He's out of town…flew to California on a whim I guess," she explained.

He felt deflated. Blaine couldn't even stand to be around him so he'd left town. Great.

"Who are all these people!?" Rachel exclaimed, eyes wide and joyous. Rachel was a social butterfly and couldn't wait to work the room, probably telling everyone about her upcoming call back for a new show.

"My roommates invited some people as well. I don't know half of the people who are here, but they promise they didn't invite any undesirables!" Quinn laughed, already tipsy. "Mingle, people!" And with that, she was gone into the crowd.

The apartment Quinn shared with her two roommates was huge. It was an open plan, renovated loft with plenty of open floor space, and there were people occupying every inch of said floor. From the outside, the building looked like an old warehouse and it wasn't in the best part of town, but on the inside…wow. Kurt had been there when they first moved in. In fact, Quinn had asked him if he wanted to be one of her roommates, but he'd declined. He was amazed and awed by what they'd accomplished in the space that had once been ratty and run down. It was freshly painted, wide open and such a welcoming, cozy spot now. He might have been envious if he'd given himself a second to think about it.

Kurt stayed by Rachel's side for a while, but then branched off and started talking to the other guests. A few people from work were there, so at least everyone wasn't a stranger. He watched the clock like a hawk, just waiting for the countdown so that he could escape and go home to wallow in his own misery. He missed Blaine, and the sooner he left the job the sooner he could beg his favorite elf to let them be "them" again. But what if Blaine didn't want that now? What if he was upset with Kurt for forcing them apart to begin with? What if the reason he wasn't at the party wasn't because he was out of town, but because he was with someone else already? Oh, great, now he felt sick to his stomach. The drink in his hand suddenly didn't appeal to him and he knew he had to sneak out and just head home.

"I can see it in your eyes, you're looking to escape," said a voice beside him.

Kurt turned to see an attractive guy about his age standing close by, his smile warm and shy.

"I um…yeah. I'm not really in the mood to party, I guess. Ironic, isn't it, that it's one of, if not _the_ biggest party nights of the year," Kurt chuckled.

"Any particular reason?"

With a deep breath Kurt wondered if he should just bolt, but maybe it wouldn't kill him to make conversation and try to have a good time.

"Stressed out, I guess. I have a lot going on in my personal life as well as at work, and…well, I'm probably letting it get to me too much," Kurt explained, hoping that was enough.

"Personal life, as in…?" the guy fished. "I'm Paul, by the way," he grinned, holding out his hand to shake. Kurt took it with a shy smile as well.

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel. It's nice to meet you, Paul. And personal life, as in…there's this guy…" he trailed off, dropping his eyes to the floor and shrugging. "It's complicated."

"It always is, isn't it?" Paul laughed. "Is he…here?" he asked, then looked around stealthily, making Kurt laugh out loud.

"No, and that's part of the problem. I wish he was…maybe. I mean…we're not dating right now, but I want to be, so I'm quitting my job."

"Wow, ok. You kinda lost me, but that seems…harsh. I'm not sure I follow."

So, Kurt told the story from the beginning and Paul listened intently, leading Kurt to an open spot on the sofa about halfway through the conversation. Paul was easy to talk to and Kurt opened up, explaining why he felt he had to leave the job and being open and honest about really enjoying Blaine's company, among other things. He didn't want to lead the guy on, and he was sure Paul was interested.

"Wow…that's…wow. I can see where that would absolutely be a dilemma, Kurt. I'm sorry you're kinda being forced to make that choice. But he must be one hell of a guy to make you walk away from your dream job just to be with him."

"He is. He really, really is. He's kind, compassionate, witty, charming, smart and just so damn hot," Kurt laughed. Paul laughed with him and leaned in to bump shoulders as they giggled like kids. At some point Rachel had handed Kurt another drink and disappeared again with a wink when she saw he was talking to Paul. Kurt just rolled his eyes at her. He might have been a little buzzed, slightly tipsy and having a marginally better time than he had been prior to meeting Paul, but he wasn't "interested" like he might have been before meeting Blaine.

"He's hot, huh?" Paul asked, a smirk on his face, bringing Kurt back to the conversation. He rolled his eyes, teasing Kurt, and Kurt leaned in to be heard, not wanting to shout across the floor that his man was sexy as hell. He had his hand on Paul's knee as he told of Blaine's dark curls, his amazing smile and his beautiful, soulful eyes when he glanced up and made contact with the very eyes he was describing, but they were across the room on a familiar face which looked…stricken.

Blaine.

"Oh…oh my God, he's—" Kurt began, but that quickly, Blaine was back in the throng of people and Kurt was up off the sofa leaving a startled Paul to wonder what had happened.

"He's…?" Paul asked, watching Kurt jump up as if he'd been burned, standing on his toes to peer over the heads of the two dozen or so people in the room.

"Blaine. He's here, I…I saw him. I think?" Kurt said, then made his way through the crowd searching for those honeyed eyes once again. He didn't even consider that he was being rude, that he'd just left the conversation and Paul like neither mattered.

He'd made a path around the apartment twice, not finding Blaine, but now feeling worse than he had before. Ball or no ball, he was done. Kurt found his coat and headed home with a heavy heart, missing Blaine more than he could even articulate.

Kurt flung his door open, then slammed it shut for good measure, tossing his coat on the hook near the door and leaning his own body against the heavy, solid wood. He felt…defeated. The look on Blaine's face said he most likely thought Kurt was enjoying himself a little too much with someone other than him, and Kurt couldn't shake the sadness in Blaine's eyes.

He pushed himself away from the door and made his way into the bedroom. He stripped and pulled on his pajama pants and a t-shirt, then went through the motions in the bathroom to ready himself for bed. Ball drop or no ball drop, he was exhausted, mentally and physically. With a sigh, he flopped down and cried himself to sleep. Exhaustion won and sleep took over.

* * *

It could have been hours later or minutes, Kurt had no idea. His phone buzzing on the table beside him woke him from his sleep, and the thud, thud, thud on his door had him on his feet ignoring the phone. Who the hell was at his door at…what the hell time was it anyway…on New Year's Eve? Had he missed midnight?

He dragged his feet across the cold floor and all but whipped the door open ready to give some drunk guest of one of his neighbors and earful, but instead he found a pathetic looking Blaine on his doorstep, dark circles under his eyes and a barely there, hopeful smile.

"Hi. I'm sorry, I know it's late, but…I…can I come in?" Blaine asked. Kurt immediately stepped aside and let him in, still half asleep and unsure what to say.

"I have so many things to say, but the only thing that comes to mind right now is oh my GOD, I've missed you," Kurt said, eyes watery as he took in Blaine's disheveled appearance. Cleary he'd been running his fingers through his hair and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Yeah?" Blaine asked, eyes watery as well. Kurt merely nodded, pretty choked up and Blaine all but fell into his arms. They held each other for a long while, standing in Kurt's small living room and didn't even speak at first.

"Do you want to come in? Can I take your coat?" Kurt finally said.

"Do I have to let go of you if I say yes?"

"Kinda…" Kurt laughed, stepping back and looking at Blaine's face. "What's going on, Blaine? You look like…is something wrong? You left…Quinn said you went to California and now you look like someone killed your best friend. Oh…oh my God, is the baby…" Kurt trailed off, afraid to even finish the sentence. Of course, that's why Blaine went back.

"She's here…she's perfect in every way. Ten little fingers and ten little toes and her name is Annalise Devon and she's the most amazing thing…next to you, of course," Blaine gushed, a tear falling down his cheek. "Kurt, I can't do this…" he said, and finally broke.

"Ok, come on…come in and sit down," Kurt said, leading Blaine in to sit on the sofa. "What can't you do?"

"I can't be without you. I can't see you every day at work and not be able to talk to you about anything but work. I can't…I can't see you at parties talking to other men…good looking men…and—"

"No…NO, Blaine. I wasn't…Paul was…I just met him this evening and he…we were…it's not like that at all!" Kurt said quickly, needing Blaine to know that there was no room for anyone but him in Kurt's heart.

"He told me," Blaine said quietly. "After you left, I…I may have been looking for you after I ducked into the bathroom to try to breathe…to catch my breath after seeing you with…someone else, it was…I couldn't…" he began, but was obviously having trouble staying on track.

"Blaine…"

"No, I mean…you can talk to whoever you want, Kurt. I'm not that guy. I just…I came out of the bathroom and you weren't there. I asked Quinn where you'd gone and she didn't know. I found Rachel and asked her as well, and she didn't know you'd left, but that guy…he was standing near her and heard me asking about you. He said 'oh, so you're the guy?' and he smiled at me, then told me how insanely lucky I was to have you…to have a man who'd give up his dream job, give up doing the thing he loved most to be with me. He said you couldn't say enough good things about me, and only stopped short of how I obviously walked on water…" Blaine choked off with a little laugh. "I can't be without you, Kurt, but I can't ask you to give up your dream, either. Please…I'm begging you, please, just…we can make this work. We can. I know it…please try, for me? For us?"

Kurt just shook his head no, knowing it wouldn't work, and it nearly broke Blaine.

"Kurt, please…"

"I have to quit, Blaine. I can't take the job. But I can't quit you…" he said, then leaned in to take Blaine's face in his hands and thoroughly kiss him. "I can find another job, but I can't find another Blaine. I love you…"

"I love you, too…" Blaine grinned, giving back as much as he was being given. "We'll find a way. I won't argue with you about it, Kurt, but we will. For now, though…please…Kurt, please just say we can be together again? Don't make me beg you."

"Oh, I dunno…begging might be fun?" Kurt teased, then stood and held his hand out to Blaine who took it immediately, not knowing what Kurt was up to, but it didn't matter. He'd follow him anywhere. "Come to bed with me? I think we've denied ourselves the pleasure long enough, don't you?"

"Really?" Blaine asked hopefully. "Don't jerk my chain, Kurt. I'm a simple man with simple needs, but once that offer's on the table, you can't take it back."

"The very last thing I want to do is take it back," Kurt said, biting his bottom lip, sexy as hell, and Blaine's heart pounded.

"Ok…ok, yes, then let's do that. Let's…yes…" he said, all but pushing Kurt into his bedroom.

Kurt couldn't think of a more fantastic way of ringing in the New Year than to have Blaine between his legs, kneeling above him and making Kurt's back arch from the bed in ecstasy. Blaine's body was a thing of beauty, all olive skin and faded tan lines from the California sun. His long, easy strokes in and out of Kurt's body were rhythmic, smooth and perfect. At some point he heard the shouts, cheers and fireworks outside, but all that really mattered was what was going on between the walls of his own little apartment. He was in bed, making love with Blaine, and he couldn't think of a better end to the evening, let alone the whole year.

"My God, Kurt, your body…" Blaine panted out, his hands tracing lines up and down Kurt's skin, making him shiver. "So beautiful…"

"Please…Blaine, please…I'm so close…I need you to…please…." Kurt gasped, his hands fisted in the sheets and Blaine increased his pace, the sexiest, shit eating grin Kurt had ever seen gracing his features.

"Feel good?" he asked, pulling Kurt's ass up from the bed and shoving a pillow under his hips. A few thrusts later and Kurt saw stars, groaning out his gratitude for Blaine's amazing prowess in bed and begging for Blaine to just fuck him harder, right there and oh God yes, please…

"Can we do it again?" Kurt asked, giggling like a little girl as he tried and failed to catch his breath, Blaine lying next to him in a similar state. Blaine burst out laughing, then rolled to his side to nuzzle his face into Kurt's neck.

"I love you…God, so much, Kurt."

"Love you, too," Kurt answered, grabbing Blaine's hand. "But you know I'll have to talk to Mr. Dickerson—" he began, but Blaine placed soft fingers over his lips and shushed him.

"Not tonight. We'll worry about that when he comes back to work next week, but…not tonight, ok? Tonight is about you and me and a new year and the fucking fantastic sounds you make when you're coming undone on my cock-" Blaine began, but Kurt shrieked and rolled over, tickling Blaine to death.

"Again?"

"Any time, beautiful," Blaine grinned at him, leaning in for a sweet kiss. "I'm going to ask you again, Kurt, and don't break my heart or I won't be able to handle it. Date me? Be mine? Can we be 'us' again?"

"Yes…I'd love nothing more," Kurt answered him, and the blinding smile Blaine gave him in return was the most beautiful thing Kurt had ever seen.

* * *

Kurt tentatively knocked on Mr. Dickerson's door when he noticed that his assistant was away from her desk. The door opened and startled him, and Mr. Dickerson stood before him, a smile on his face and wide eyes.

"Well, just the man I wanted to talk to. Walk with me, Hummel?" he said, then strode through the door and down the hall. Kurt scrambled to keep up. "Blaine?" Mr. Dickerson said, rapping on the open door of his nephew's office as they passed it. Blaine looked up from his open laptop and grinned at his uncle, then saw Kurt and his grin nearly took over his face. "Walk with me?" he said again, and Blaine got up to meet them with curious look on his face.

"Uncle J…where are we—"

"Here…" Mr. Dickerson said, banging open the door to the conference room. Inside were all the top staff, as well as his assistant, who was passing out a sheet of paper to everyone assembled. "Sit, please…" he said, then left them at the back of the room, and strode to the front.

"Do you know what's going on?" Kurt asked quietly as they sat next to one another at the far end of the table.

"Not a clue," Blaine answered warily.

"I know you're all wondering what's going on," Mr. Dickerson said, eyeing everyone in the room. Kurt gave Blaine a look and barely refrained from snickering. He noticed all of the designers as well as senior staff members seated around the table and he instantly felt out of place. Many of them nodded that they were, indeed, wondering why they'd been asked to come to the conference room. "I know this is a touchy subject, but it has to be addressed as it's causing all manner of…ridiculousness…in my office. I won't have it. Now I know we're all adults here, and adults have opinions and as such…I'm going to trust that you can be adults and answer one simple question in an honest manner. Do so knowing that whatever your answer, nobody will know and you won't be looked at differently in any way. I just can't have this nonsense in my house," he said, a grin almost breaking through.

"Sir…" Mr. Dickerson's assistant said, then slid a sheet of paper toward him.

"Thank you, Megan…" he said, then turned the paper over. "You'll see that you all have this same page. Before you is a black ink pen. I will ask the question, you will answer it by circling yes or no on the page, then fold it in half and slide it to the person beside you until they're all in my hands. Easy enough?"

They all nodded, unsure what was going on. Kurt and Blaine took up their sheets and pens and looked at each other expectantly.

"Ok, here goes. You are all equally important team members, none of you more so than anyone else here. You're all good at what you do, and I trust your judgement or you wouldn't work for me. We work best when we work as one. We understand one another when we put ourselves in someone else's shoes and see situations from another vantage point. We are honest and upfront with one another, and that has to be how things work here. That's what separates us from the other design houses in the city. We're a team, a family, and we're not cold hearted, dog eat dog individuals. Still, though…there is no room for sugar coating at Verve. There is no room for hiding, deception or dishonesty, am I right? I think we all learned that from Mr. Faulkner, didn't we? I don't ever want anyone to think they have to hide anything, am I clear?" He asked. Everyone nodded yes, still curious. "Good. We spend a good deal of time together here, and we've all learned about each other and know little bits and pieces of each other's lives, as it should be. Your personal lives are your own, but know that if you need anything, if there is something I, or anyone else here, can help you with, you need only ask. You may think you're subtle, but I know more than you think I do," he grinned, and Kurt was sure that he shot a glance their way.

Oh no. Oh, God…no…

"All this being said, and knowing what you all know about one another, please answer the following question on your sheet with complete honesty, and rest assured that no matter what your answer is, nobody will know it was you who said yay or nay, and you will not be questioned any further. Are we clear?"

Again, they all nodded.

"Good. This morning, my nephew, Blaine, came to my office…"

"Oh God," Blaine groaned under his breath, letting his eyes fall shut.

"Shit…" Kurt said, doing the same, knowing what was coming.

"…and he resigned from his position, effective immediately."

Everyone around the table stared at Blaine with concerned, wide eyes, a few gasped and some voiced their displeasure with a "noooo" or a "why?" Kurt was no exception. He turned wide, disbelieving eyes to Blaine and hissed "what the hell, Blaine?" in his ear. Mr. Dickerson continued.

"Minutes later, I checked my email and received a similar message from Mr. Hummel, stating that he would be leaving as well, and he stated his own personal reasons why."

Again, the curious looks from around the table were sent their way, many shaking their heads, unsure what was going on.

"I'm sorry, boys, but you've brought all this on yourselves," he chuckled, seeing their discomfort. "You see, I asked Blaine to come to New York City from L.A. I talked him into it, knowing that he is a wealth of knowledge about fashion and design. I know he'll be good for the company and good for all of you. He is a damn fine young man with a good head on his shoulders and I don't want to lose him. He was afraid, however, of how he'd be received, as he is quite young and also the boss' nephew. It was my suggestion that he work his way in, getting to know everyone and allowing everyone to get to know him as well…before revealing his true reason for being here. I have it on good authority that he was quite well received and made a good impression on all of you," he grinned. Every eye around the table was on Blaine, who found the wood grain to be super exciting as he stared holes through it, shaking his head.

"Uncle J—"

"AND…" Mr. Dickerson continued, "it seems that while Blaine was engrossed in his elf world, he met someone who swept him off his feet," he smiled, and Kurt burned red from his hair to his toenails. Every eye was on them now, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "…and fell in love. Don't even look at me like that, Blaine Devon, I know you're not even going to try to tell me I'm wrong, are you?"

"N-no, sir…" Blaine mumbled, also blushing furiously.

"It seems Mr. Hummel has stolen Blaine's heart, and if I'm not mistaken, it goes both ways?" he said, and Kurt finally chanced a glance in his direction, chewing on his bottom lip and offering a single nod of acknowledgement. "Now, here's the dilemma. Both of them are trying, chivalrously, to spare the other the drama of an office romance where they have assumed all of you will take issue, object and / or cry favoritism. I think I know my staff better than that, but if this is what we have to do to keep two talented staff members on board, then so be it. Now…the question is this: In the employee handbook there is a section which refers vaguely and very briefly to 'interoffice fraternizing' if I'm not mistaken. It discourages dating among coworkers, but I believe it to be a bit old fashioned for this day and age. I, for one, believe that you can all be adults and act accordingly while in the building and on the clock. Correct me if I'm wrong?" he said, looking around the table at the faces before him.

"There is also the matter of Mr. Hummel's concerns, where he clearly thinks that you've all completely forgotten that we've raved over his designs over the past 18 months, even if we didn't know they were his at the time, and that you'll assume he was elevated to designer only because of Blaine's feelings for him….which I assure you, had absolutely nothing with _me_ offering him a promotion. Mr. Hummel is a fine designer in his own right, and that was proven to us all before he ever met Blaine," Mr. Dickerson said, glancing down the table at Kurt as if to say "so there, young man…".

"So, yes or no…If you believe that Mr. Hummel can design his heart out here and still maintain a professional and personal relationship with Blaine while doing so, please mark your page accordingly. a If you think that we are all able to handle ourselves in a professional manner and we can ditch that outdated rule, please circle yes. If you think we are incapable of acting in a mature way, and the rule should stay, then circle no. It's that simple."

With that, everyone picked up their pens, made their choices and sent their folded papers forward. Kurt knew he was eleven shades of red, his face flaming and warm and his leg bouncing under the table. Blaine's hands were all but shaking and Kurt could tell his breathing was off, quickened by the anxiety of the moment. Neither man had thought Mr. Dickerson would call them on the carpet this way and single them out, but here they were.

Megan collected them and shoved them all in a cardboard box, rattling them around a bit, then pulled them one by one and handed them to her boss. He unfolded each one, then put them in the appropriate pile on the table…one on the left…one on the right….left…right…right…left…left…left…and so on until every paper was counted. He then turned a stern eye toward Kurt and Blaine and huffed out a long, slow breath, looking dejected. Kurt felt ill.

"Ha! I'm just kidding. Unanimously yes, so nobody here gives a hoot that you're dating. Can we all get back to work now?" he crowed, laughing at the looks on their faces as everyone else let out a sigh of relief that perhaps their coworkers would stay now. The knowing grins around the table focused on them, but neither one cared. They were just grateful that their coworkers had such faith in them.

But what Kurt didn't miss as he shot Mr. Dickerson a wry "we'll talk about this later" look was when Travis took Maribelle's hand under the table and a wide, joyous grin spread over his face.

"Are you ok?" Kurt asked later, standing in the doorway of Blaine's office. He looked up and grinned at Kurt, his smile widening as he stood and approached him. He tugged Kurt inside and shut the door softly, then kissed him tenderly on the lips.

"I'm so ok. I hope you are as well?" he asked. Kurt just nodded, then stepped around him and walked further into the room. He'd only been in the office once, and it hadn't been a good evening. They had argued…well, Kurt had argued while Blaine all but begged him to reconsider leaving.

Kurt fingered the elf hat that Blaine hung over one of his small desk lamps. He looked at Blaine with a raised eyebrow.

"Posterity? Happier times?" he said, grinning. "A reminder of where I came from?" he laughed.

"Mmmhmmm…sure," Kurt smiled back at him.

"Or maybe I have a fantasy of bending you over my desk and fucking you senseless while wearing the elf costume with all the lights of the city shining through the windows? You never know," Blaine chuckled, then sauntered over to wrap his arms around a giggling Kurt.

"Oh, reeaaally?" he teased. "I think that might be fun, but I'm not sure that's exactly what your Uncle J meant when he said we needed to act mature—" Kurt began, but Blaine squeezed his sides, tickling him, and cut him off.

"I can't think of many more 'mature' things to do than that, can you?"

"Blaine! You're incorrigible!" Kurt gasped. "But, speaking of Uncle J, I need to have a word with him. I'll stop by later on my way out and see if you're ready to leave or not. Love you," Kurt said, pecking Blaine on the lips and then sauntering out the door with a swish of his hips.

* * *

"You knew?" Kurt asked.

"I did…about you and Blaine, yes. And about Travis and Maribelle as well. I've known for some time, actually. That is why I pair them up more often than not. They work quite well with one another, and I truly think you and Blaine will be the same. All I ask is that if it's too much you come to me and let me assess the situation before leaving on a whim without ample time to fix things. I don't want to lose you, Kurt. I think you're a fine addition to the team."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down," Kurt nodded, smiled, and then turned to leave the office.

"Oh, Kurt?" Mr. Dickerson called, and Kurt turned to look at him at the door.

"Blaine is very dear to me. I have been close with him all his life. He hasn't always had the best relationship with his parents, so I tried to step in and help with that. I admire the man that he is and he's a good-hearted soul. He loves you, I can see it from a mile away. I hope you'll treat him well."

Kurt stood there, unsure of what to say and not wanting to overshare or overstep. In the end, he figured honesty was the best policy.

"I love him, too, Mr. Dickerson. If he'll have me, I'll be around for a long, long time. He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I'll strive to make him just as happy. Thank you…for everything. For giving me a chance. For giving us…Blaine and I…a chance. I appreciate it more than I can say."

With that, Kurt turned and left the office, a skip in his step.

Later that evening, when everyone else had left the building, Kurt passed by Blaine's office and saw him still sitting at his desk, brows furrowed.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he said, head tilted to the side.

"Just going over…stuff. It'll wait 'til Monday. Are you ready to head home? Can I buy you dinner?" Blaine smiled, standing to walk over to Kurt.

"Hmmm…dinner with the most handsome man I know. Let me think about it—" he began, teasing, but Blaine grabbed him and spun him around, pressing a heated kiss to Kurt's lips.

"I can't get enough of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…so much."

"You know…everyone's gone for the day, it being Friday and all that, they all kinda scampered out early…even your Uncle J," Kurt said, giving Blaine a coy look.

"Is that so?"

"It is. I thought, perhaps, Mr. Anderson, that we might…um…" Kurt began, but stopped when he heard Blaine turn the lock on his office door.

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Kurt answered, twirling the elf hat around his finger with a smirk.

"Mr. Anderson, huh?" Blaine smirked right back at him.

"Yes, sir?"

"You have a thing for elves, Mr. Hummel?"

"Maybe…or maybe just one, particular elf?"

"Show me?"

"With pleasure," Kurt answered, then dropped his bag in a nearby chair and prepared to celebrate the holiday season with the most adorable Christmas gift he'd ever received.

**A/N Thanks, as always, to Suzanne for editing. Then I went back in and added some stuff, as I do, so mistakes are mine. **  
**Thanks, also, to Sue and Kris for just being awesome and indulging me on a spur of the moment road trip to NYC for Kris' birthday (surprise!), and to Sue for allowing me to crash at her house! :) What a freaking amazing weekend with my son in tow for his first trip to the city. **

**Thanks to Steph for keeping me writing, and to Candace for nudging me in the butt now and again as well! I appreciate each and every one of you who favorite, follow or message me on any story. I'm still working on Crowded House and it WILL be finished, come hell or high water! Have a great weekend, y'all! :) **


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